alice-kanzaki

[alice-kanzaki]

and i wouldn't marry me either

word count: 20.1k

warnings: ANGST. hurt/comfort, over the seasons/winning you back

summary: You come to a slow realization in one spring, and a revelation in another.

春

To be plucked, nurtured, raised, and presented on a platter all for the sake of securing someone's position for the throne. To be placed beside said person and never used. To be nothing more than a tool perfected only to be abandoned before use.

Your lashes flutter as you wander around the palace, pausing to stare at the lotus in the pond, and you ponder the whereabouts of your betrothed. The wind flutters behind you as you stare pitifully at the lilypads, stepping down from the path and onto the grass to touch the water. The dress around your body is tucked behind you by a maid as your fingers brush the water, and you pause, heart rippling in your chest. Something. Anything. You have fulfilled your duty as the most ideal woman in the palace, and now you were to be wed and desired. Yet, one whom you were prepared for did not desire you.

You stay crouched by the pond, and the maids to the other palaces bustle behind you as you stare into nothing.

A quiet woman is to be desired. A gentle woman is to be adored. An obedient wife is every man's dream.

You get up after a while, and you stare at the robes on your body. Pink for the lotus flowers. You wonder how many times you have worn the dresses prepared by the late empress for her ideal daughter in law only to never have been seen by the man you were nurtured for. You hear word of your betrothed and his new maid, and you hear tales about how he desired her and approached her with all these thoughts in mind. You cannot help but wonder what you were created for prior to being picked by the empress.

The wind rustles the leaves above you as you get up, and someone bangs a pot in the background.

Somewhere, there is a rope fraying.

You step back onto the pathing, and you head off to continue wandering. You know the path, each stone and slot of wood stained with a memory that you could never erase from the back of your mind. In your palace that you are to share with your betrothed, there is something staining your fingertips and heart. In the palace of your future and past, there is a drop of your sweat on each tile and piece, each plank and pillar, every color and china. In the palace of the present, you embody everything you can touch and feel. Your skin and body lives in the palace, a shell for your hollow heart.

You wonder if your courses on decorating a house according to what is best for fengshui were helpful. What was the point of decorating a residence if your betrothed never visited you? You wonder and think, fingers swiping to check the maids' cleaning, and you leave the room to return to your tea room, enjoying a cup of tea. You plant so many flowers only to never be visited. You decorate each room to perfectly only to be never seen. You fan yourself with your hand, almost as though you were fanning such pointless thoughts away. A house is to represent its owner. It is not a shell for your hollow heart, it is an abode that will be filled with love one day.

It is an abode that will be filled with love one day, an abode that is currently hollow.

You retire for the night, and the maids leave you to rest as Jinshi enters his corner of the palace, lashes fluttering and his heart souring as he looks at you with something akin to pity. He brushes your hair to the side as he looks down at you, closing his eyes to listen to the summer breeze whisper secrets of his into his ear. The flowers blossom outside, and his shoulder sink, his head heavy as you breathe quietly without a care in the world.

His bride to be.

His wife to be.

A girl picked carefully out of a field and nurtured to be the greatest empress one day. he pities you. You will never be chosen, and it hurts him that you were promised something you could not have nor be loved by. He glances around the room at the decorations, and he hums, lips curled into a sweet smile. It's homey. It's clear you had put thorough thought into where you were told you were to spend your future with him in, but it hurts him that he would not be here with you in the future. Too selfish to throw you away, yet too selfish to fall in love with you.

His heart belongs to someone else.

So, as he slides the door shut behind him to head back to his room, he can't help but wonder what is to become of you when he finally marries someone else. Perhaps you will find yourself, or maybe you will become a shell of what you were made to be, hollow from the inside out and unsure of what to do with the rest of your life. To be a doll and to be grown all for his sake only to be never touched... Jinshi wonders if you know what you want to do if you were to have had a choice in the matter. You did not pick to be as delicate as a flower, after all.

The moon is gorgeous, just a shame that he could not make you the center of his affections.

So Jinshi leaves, wind rustling the tree you planted in your sixth year of life's branches, the lotus flowers planted recently bobbing in the water as the pond rustles from the goose lands on the water, and he closes his eyes, listening to the crickets and noticing the lights in the hallway. A maid nods at him as he passes, and the wood of the residence creaks under his feet, almost as if to warn him to stay away if he would only hurt you.

It was neither of you's choice to end up where you are.

So his only choice made will be to pick his wife.

夏

In summer, you swap the warmer blankets to silk, and you change the coloring to something brighter. It did not matter if Jinshi did not visit you. It only mattered that the residence were still run like a residence. So, the maids swap everything out as you are left to your own again, and you wear lighter clothes, drinking tea alone in your tearoom as you watch the ducks kick in the pond. The residence lacks life. You have no child as you are unmarried, and you are stuck in some sort of crossroad of destiny as you wait for your betrothed to do something.

He does not want you. You know that at the very least.

So, you spend your days drawing, brush wet against the paper as you draw, and you spend your days singing, hoping that somewhere along the lines, you would find something that made you shine in a glass cage. You are nothing if Jinshi does not treasure you. Yet, you do not speak or dare to make more of a sound whenever the maids from the other palaces drop by to request of your presence for their consorts. You are something. You are worth something. You are only worth something because you are still Jinshi's most anticipated betrothed. Yet, all the consorts know that you are not the ideal choice.

You glance at Maomao, lips spreading into a smile as you greet the consort Gyokuyou.

You have tea with her, updating her about the latest news that her maids cannot reach, and you blink at the flower in the tea, smiling apologetically as you ask if you could share another drink. Your eyes trail to her developing baby bump, and you switch topics to how her health has been lately. She tells you it has been fine. A green tea is brought in, and you press the drink to your lips as she continues talking to you.

"Ah, did you hear? Your betrothed has recently taken in a new maid."

"I know." You smile, eyes landing on Maomao. "I heard he had been making unwelcome moves on her as well."

Maomao nods.

"Well, the man's want needs to be placed somewhere." She smiles. "I do hope you take no offense in that."

You laugh. "None taken. He does not want me. I am aware of that much."

Maomao looks at you almost with pity. You do not mind, much used to the look already. Neither of you chose to end up where you currently are. You suppose the difference between her and you is that she is knowledgeable in something specifically while you are knowledgeable in everything generally. It is who you are, and it is who you were raised to be. There is no you without the title of betrothed attached to it. You will be forced to live how you were raised unless you had a reaction and changed. What is there to change in an unchanging environment? Even if you were to change, there would be no difference around you. You are born and raised to be Jinshi's wife. That is all you ever will amount to.

"Then, what do you suppose will happen?"

"The betrothal is simply a formality." You smile bitterly. "I shall simply wait for him to break it."

"He is far too selfish to let go of you."

Your gaze averts to the teapot on the table. "I know."

"Do you truly wish to stay here forever?"

There is no amount of improvement you could pour into yourself to possibly be set free from the palace. You are Jinshi's betrothed. You have been his betrothed, and you will continue to be his betrothed. You have never belonged to yourself as one would have belonged to themselves. You were simply created to be a person that was never your person. You are everything to be desired by the noble worth nothing to the people. You were groomed, grown, nurtured, and ruined for the sake of someone who would never touch you. You are a porcelain doll trapped in a wooden cage with the key around your neck.

You are worth nothing without your title of betrothed.

You have been taught to never escape even when given the chance. You are not to touch the key around your neck. For if you don't, you will be rewarded with riches beyond the comprehension of the common man. For if you don't, the boy you were coerced to crush on will look back at you for once. For if you don't, the world will be a better place all thanks to your small sacrifice. You are to hold the earth up to the sky and die in order for everyone else to live. Then, you will be remembered for the rest of your life.

You are an obedient doll on display for the dignity of the royal dynasty.

"So?"

You laugh dryly. "Where else do I have to go?"

A nameless bride from a nameless family. A dressed up doll on display.

The consort's face weakens in pity.

You can only smile bitterly at her.

There is nothing else you can do. There is no one else you can rely on. You have the key around your neck but you do not know how to use it.

That night, you return to your room, resting on your bed under the summer warmth, silk cool against your skin as the moon shimmers, stars twinkling as you grimace, heart heavy in your chest. You are not loved. You are not loved, nor chosen, nor cherished. You were picked from an empty field and nurtured to become someone you were not simply because there is never a person you were. You are put into the skin of another because you do not have your own. You will never be yourself is there was never a you to begin with. You will never know the warmth nor happiness of being your own person. All you know is to devote yourself to Jinshi.

All you know is that in a field of flowers, you will never be picked by the one you were grown for.

秋

Colored leaves detach from the branches during the season of fall. You change back to warmer blankets, clothing a little more warm, and you arrange for the incense scents to be changed to something else. The bedding becomes thicker, the colors become redder, and you watch the flowers around the residence lose life with each day. The winter is getting colder, and your heart is only further breaking, cracking ever so slightly with each creak of the wood when you step around the place. You are not loved— not by the maids, nor by your soulmate. You are not loved.

You do not have a soulmate.

It is painfully evident when you visit the noble consorts, lips curled into a sweet smile when you drink tea with them. It is painfully obvious when the emperor refuses to let you leave Jinshi when you bring it up as a joke. You are not allowed to do anything in the palace. You are handed a key as a necklace but you do not leave. You are the display at the center of a traveling performance crew. You are a doll that will never be purchased because of your value. A doll that will never be touched because you are too prideful to offer yourself to anyone who is not Jinshi.

The sun may rise and set and the stars may twinkle and sparkle, but you will never be worth anything in the eyes of Jinshi. You are worth nothing. In the eyes of the emperor, you are worth nothing. In the eyes of the other consorts, you are a pitiful child that will be inevitably thrown away. In the eyes of Maomao, you are Jinshi's unfortunate betrothed whom she wishes he would pay more attention to. In the eyes of your maids, one day Maomao will take over as the owner of the residence and you will be left behind. You do not matter in the eyes of anyone.

Somewhere in the distance, a rope frays further.

Somewhere in the distance, in another universe, in every universe, you are cursed to love and never be loved. You are forced to hold the hand of a man who does not want you. In this universe and every other one, you are stuck wallowing in self-hate, pitied for the way you are treated, despised for being the one who stands next to your husband. You are not a person. You exist only as a shell to embody other people. You will never be yourself. In every other universe and yours, you will be the shell that a hermit moves into only to be abandoned when they outgrow you. You will never be someone of value.

You call the maids to remove the tea, and you wander out into the streets of the capital.

Warm colors of red yellow and orange litter the streets with each step you take, and you purchase a quick snack, chewing on the sugar as you consider how you would need to starve yourself in order to lose the weight gained from the sugar. It makes you sick. You do all these things because you were conditioned for no outcome. You love Jinshi with your whole heart only for him to be in love with someone else. You cannot compare to her. She cannot compare to you. You are too different from her. You wonder if Jinshi simply desired a woman who could not be attained. You were too easy. Too simple. You were created and made in order to be perfect for him.

You purchase peanut treats, chewing on the treat as you watch the sun start to set.

A maid tells you it's time to go home.

You only nod.

You stare at the courtesans in the brothels, and then at your own skin. Perhaps that would be a way out. Perhaps if it were ever to come to it, you would pick that. It is not undignified. You would be sold for a good price, and you would have a rich husband. Perhaps the only downturn would be that the man would sleep with you day and night, but you wonder if that would be better than the bitter loneliness that your years of solitude have left you with. Perhaps you would be worth something in the eyes of another man if you just let go of your pride. Perhaps you would be of worth.

You are just an empty shell, after all.

You find yourself stuck in place as you blink quickly, realizing there are tears on your cheeks and splattering onto your chest. Your maid hands you a handkerchief, and you wipe them away, wiping again and again and again until the fabric is drenched and you no longer can wipe your tears. You stay like that, an anomaly in a bustling street of happy people, your emotions tucked behind your mind as your eyes form a mind of their own as you cry. You are not sad. You do not know how to feel sad. You only know how to cry. You are a doll. You should not know how to cry. You were erased of that ability years ago.

Yet, the tears do not stop, and you cry until the sun is no longer visibly, tears splattering still even when they wash you up for the day. It makes you unwell. It makes you feel sick. You should not know anything so unbecoming of a lady like this. You should not know how to cry. You should only know how to smile and wait for your betrothed to come home. You should not know how to be human. You should not know anything in this wretched world other than the happiness that being married could bring you.

So, as the maids clean you up and let you rest for the night, you dream of a happy marriage with Jinshi.

It is the only thing you know, after all.

冬

Winter comes and you dress warm. The fur rests on your shoulders as you sit down for tea with Consort Ah-Duo, wine pressed to your lips as she lets out a heavy sigh.

"It is a pleasure to receive your visit." You smile.

"Jinshi, that child, he's quite the handful, isn't he?" She gets straight to the point, mumbling. "Had I been more upfront about it, perhaps I could have stopped your demise."

You laugh, lips curled into a bashful smile as you try to hide it with your sleeve, but Ah-Duo sees right through you.

"You are hurt."

"It is hard not to be." You hum, letting your sleeve down as you stare at the drink. "But I have grown used to it."

"The residence must be empty without a master."

You shake your head. "I have grown used to it."

"I could ask the emperor to give you to me." She offers, hand held out to you.

You turn her down. Your role in this world is not to be a servant to the late consort. Your role in the world was already predestinated. It is fate for you to end up with Jinshi in every universe. "I would become a servant. That is not my role in the palace."

Ah-Duo grimaces. "Is your role to wait until Jinshi is forced to throw you away?"

You laugh, lips curled into a gentle smile this time. You do not bother hiding this one. She shakes her head in disagreement, but she does not speak up. You are stuck in your role just as she is stuck in hers. She has retired from the main palace now. You will retire from being Jinshi's betrothed when he deems it fit. You will not be the decider of your fate.

"Let us drink. I missed this."

You are her daughter just as Jinshi is her son. You are the child she watched grow up in another consort's palace, your pinky linked with Jinshi's when the two of you were scared of official events, your shoulders straightening through the years as your education furthered, until you were an undeniable presence in the royal court, your words like law, just and righteous as you argued against the old men who would stop at nothing to prove a woman like you wrong. You are her daughter the same way Jinshi is her son. You are her daughter simply because you grew up with her son.

"I did too." You press the wine to your lips, bitterness sliding down your throat as you swallow, that faux happiness dropping almost instantly. You are not a lightweight. You are trained to drink well in order to talk to guests well. You despise it. You have learned that. You have learned to despise things.

You despise yourself.

You despise the people who pity you.

You despise the maids who whisper behind your back about how you would be replaced one day.

"I do not expect you to forgive Jinshi." Ah-Duo speaks. "I would not forgive him either."

"There is no forgiving to be done. He is simply making his own choices." You nod as the maid refills your drink. "I am not a woman to be desired by him. He is the type to pick a chicken leg over an abalone. He is the type to pick a stick rather than a flower. I am simply what the late empress thought of as desirable to him but ended up not to be. I am not something that Jinshi believes is desirable in his eyes. It is that simple."

"You are desirable." The consort refutes you. "You are educated in everything there is to educate someone in. You are smarter than the majority of eunuchs and workers in the palace. You are someone who is the most desirable person there is to be. Your worth does not lie on Jinshi alone."

"That is what I have been conditioned to believe."

"It is not the truth. Ah-Duo presses the liquor to her lips. "You are just as much of a person as Jinshi is. Perhaps, because of your upbringing, you are more noble than him in antics."

"He is more noble than I." You shake your head. "He is more noble simply because his position allows for him to make his own decisions regardless of who he hurts in the process."

"You may make your own as well." She hums. "Regardless of who you hurt in the process."

"I do not know how to do that." You close your eyes, exhaling. "I am not someone with that capability. I must carry the weight of being unwanted for the dignity of the royal family. I am the doll created to keep the royal family desirable. I am an exotic flower planted in a field of domestic ones, dying to be picked, only to never be touched."

"That is a lie." Ah-Duo frowns. "You are not a doll. You are just a girl."

You laugh. "I am not just a girl."

"You are just a girl." She repeats herself, staring into your eyes. "You are a just a girl. You are a girl who does not deserve anything that is happening to her. You are a girl who was picked out of the hundreds of thousands of girls abandoned on the streets because your family could not afford to raise a girl. You are not a flower curated for the betterment of a boy who would never pick you. You are a girl, not a flower. not a doll."

Your eyes do not waver, and you break the silence with another dry laugh.

"I am a doll on display with the key around her neck." You smile. "But I thank you."

You miss the way her features soften with the pity you despise.

春

When spring comes back, you watch the merchants bring in new silk and the streets fill in with the season's specials. You pick out the fruit and ingredients for the newer dishes, testing them out after they are made, and nodding in approval for them to be tasted by the rest of the consorts. Maomao helps you compile a list of ingredients that are not healthy or safe, and you look through them. Then, you send the ingredients out to the rest of the palace alongside the supplier.

Some days, you forget that you are an existence. Some days, you forget you have influence in the palace.

"Madam, what about this one?"

You turn to Maomao, and she shakes her head.

"No." You reject right away.

You wonder what made you change your mind about Maomao. You suppose it is pity that you do not have to give. You pity her for having to put up with Jinshi. Yet, it is not something you worry about for the time being. You squat down as you take your feet out of your shoes, grimacing at the sores on your feet from the shoe size that is too small.

Maomao takes note of it, shaking her head.

"You do not bind your feet, but you force them to stop growing."

"It is no different." You smile. "Your feet remain unbound, do they?"

"They do. I have no need to bind them. Granny did not request of it either."

"That checks out." You smile. "I do not bind them but keep my shoe size small out of my own volition.

"You should stop doing that." She pauses. "Not to sound presumptuous, but shoe size does not matter to Jinshi."

You blink, eyes going wide in amusement as you laugh. "You are as straightforward as the maids warn me."

Maomao bows her head in apology.

"Don't worry about it." You smile. "You are to be the lady of this residence soon, after all."

"I do not wish to." She shudders. "Ever since he... I do hope he regains interest in you."

"There is no way he was interested in me in the beginning." You hum. "It is really that simple."

"You have stopped deluding yourself—" Maomao slaps a hand over her mouth. "Apologies."

You laugh more, lips pulled into a wide laugh. "I quite like you."

She blinks at you cattily. "Please do not."

You shrug. "I understand why Jinshi would find you entertaining. I heard he proposed to you. One of the maids overheard it."

"I do not want him, if that soothes you. It is an honest statement as well." Maomao nods.

"I know that much." You hum. "Unfortunately, men in power tend to coerce women for their gain. If you do not wish for it, you may always let me know. I hold little power over Jinshi, but I hold heavy power over the words heard by these walls."

"You are powerful." She points out. "Yet you are so empty."

"So I've been told." You hum. "Those go over there. Keep that one away from the pure consort. She is unable to have those."

"Yes madam."

"Is there a reason you lack?"

"I do not know how to be anything but empty." You shake your head. "It is one of the many reasons Jinshi does not desire me."

"I believe he seems parts of you in me."

"No." You reject the idea near immediately. "We are not similar to that degree. Jinshi does not have the brain to think of us in that way. He is better than his father."

"The late emperor."

"The dead one."

Maomao shudders. "Children."

"Those poor children." You snort. "I was almost one of them."

"You are not that old."

"The late emperor saw me in the same way he saw the late empress. He was on his last years when the late empress took me in and raise me beside Jinshi." You shake your head. "Had I been born just a little earlier, I would have been sent in as a poor girl to be defiled by the emperor."

Maomao grimaces. "Did you fall in love with Jinshi at first sight?"

"No. I had just been taught that the only man I should look at is Jinshi." You hum. "Halt. What is that?"

The merchant shows you the signed form and hands you a sample, and you frown at the taste, handing the other half to Maomao.

"No."

"You heard her. No." You wave the merchant off, and he gasps, frown on his face.

"It is incredible." Maomao looks at the guards drag the man away. "A single word from you is the equivalent of a royal decree."

"The late empress had this power bestowed on me, after all." You mumble. "I am not someone who has ever had power that belonged to me."

"Can you eat poison?"

"The vast majority of them." You hum. "I was fed them while growing up."

"You seem to be everything at once. You are constituted with all the knowledge there is to offer, yet you are empty inside."

"I am composed of materialistic things." You hum. "I am composed of knowledge. I am the closest thing to perfection, I suppose. Whatever that means."

"A subjective perfection of the late empress regnant."

"Yes." You laugh. "I am a shell created to hold things. I am not constituted of anything that makes a person a person."

"Other than the physical features, I suppose." Maomao mumbles. "Yet, you are quite the enigma. You have a personality and something. You are like a dam that is waiting to explode. You are a pot of medicine simmering, waiting to boil over and become what you need to be. Ah. My apologies. I must have come off as rude."

You shake your head, lips in a smile. "So? Did you understand what to do?"

"I did." She nods. "My greatest appreciations for you for showing me. I hope I never have to take over this position."

You only laugh.

That is inevitable. The pin had already been passed on to her, after all.

But as your eyes trail to her and then to yourself, you wonder. Perhaps the two of you are just parallels of each other.

Maybe you are.

Who knows.

夏

In summer, you see Maomao again, going for tea with consort Gyokuyou.

"I missed you." She smiles. "Sit."

"How is the baby?"

"Good." She nods. "Ah. Your shoes have changed."

You smile. "You can thank your maid for that."

"They must be much more comfortable."

"Yes." You nod. "I will never be desired by Jinshi, yet he will never throw me away, so I may as well give myself a little more leeway."

"That is good. "She smiles. "The new dish you approved for eating was delicious, for your reference."

"I'm glad." You smile. "Maomao helped make that one."

"Oh, really? I am so lucky to have such a capable maid next to me." She giggles.

"Yeah." You hum, lips curled into a smile. "She's great. I'm sure she'd make for a great lady of the house."

"Are you to leave?"

"You heard of the proposal, yes?"

She doesn't react, but that itself is an answer.

"It is only a matter of time." You hum.

"I speak for all the consorts, but we will miss you."

"Thank you." You smile pitifully. "I am grateful for your care over the years."

"We are grateful for your management." She smiles. "So? Have you planned for where to go?"

"The streets." You wink at her, laughing.

She does not reciprocate, and you stop your laughter, eyes closed and lips pulled into a smile as you hum. "It's a secret. Though, I will be around."

"Will you?"

"You will see me in the trees, the breeze, and the wheat." You hum. "I will be in the wind, the sky, the clouds. You will see traces of me everywhere, simply because my blood and sweat has been poured into the imperial palace."

"Perhaps it is time for you to be freed." She hums, lips pulled into a smile. "A journey for the self."

"Rather than that." You hum. "Perhaps it is simply time to let go of Jinshi."

"Does the empress still haunt you?"

"No." You hum. "I am slowly unlearning the need for a husband."

"Then you will become a courtesan?"

"Perhaps I shall simply be employed as a maid instead." You mumble. "I would not be against such."

"Dress as a man and become an assistant." She laughs.

You smile. "Perhaps that is my new role in this narrative."

"Or, perhaps it is simply time for you to be freed from the grasps of the palace." She smiles. "Please take care of yourself."

"I will. After all, I am still a doll for the royal family."

"Darling. You are just a girl."

You do not answer to it this time.

秋

In fall, you have tea with Maomao.

The two of you sit in your tearoom with snacks, and she looks around anxiously, almost as if she were worried about something pouncing on her.

"There have been more assassination attempts on Jinshi lately." She mumbles.

"And you?"

"and I." She mumbles. "I do not understand why."

"Perhaps the emperor is making a move." You hum. "Or perhaps it is one of the consorts."

"I do not know." Maomao mumbles. "It is almost as if it were the calm before the storm."

You hum. "There is a storm brewing, alright."

An arrow pierces through the window as you knock the tea to the ground to hide Maomao with your body. Another one misses you narrowly, and you reach for the blanket on the bed, thick with cotton and warmth as it stops the arrow. Maomao stares up at you, heart racing in her chest, expression unchanging. This is what she meant. You are a force to be reckoned with. You possess the knowledge far beyond the abilities of the average consort, yet you are not acknowledged simply because the one to acknowledge you does not do so. You reach behind her for the sword under the bed, unsheathing it with ease as you slide out of the blanket, jumping out the window to chase after the assassin.

You are everything at once.

Your footsteps are light with each jump, and you swing from the branches as you knock him onto the ground, sword pressed to his neck, slicing through clean as you land with a thud in the pond. The ducks fly away as you land, water all over your robes, the blood from the decapitation bleeding into the water. The water stains your dress red from the blood, and you pant above him, pulling the sword away as you stand up to run a hand through your hair. The sun burns against your back as you throw your head back to breathe, eyes closed as Maomao's footsteps catch up to you.

"Are you injured?"

"No." You shake your head, showing her your hands. "though, these are roughed up."

"I will prepare ointment." She nods.

"Madam!" The maids yell. "Are you alright?!"

"Fine." You nod. "Fetch a change of clothes."

"We shall prepare it. Do you need to be bathed?"

"No." You shake your head. "No need. Perhaps just wash my feet."

They nod, and you hold your hand out for Maomao to apply ointment.

"Maomao!" Jinshi calls. "There you are! What are you doing here?"

You glance at him, nodding, head held down as he excuses you.

"Your sleeves are bloodied!" He reaches for her wrists, and she pulls away with a harsh tug.

"An assassin was after me." Maomao continues sliding the balm against your palm. "Your betrothed saved me."

"...thank you." Jinshi nods at you.

"You owe me one now." You nudge Maomao with a raise of your brows. "Better find a way to pay me back."

"I'll let you marry Jinshi." She deadpans, shuddering.

"Maomao!" Jinshi's jaw drops in hurt.

You laugh. "He won't let me marry him."

"Tsk. Worth a try." Maomao grumbles.

"Madam! The clothes!"

You nod in response, smiling as Maomao is taken away once the maids pull you to rid you of the blood.

You do not despise Maomao, but you do not deserve that lack of attention that Jinshi gives you either.

You are just a girl. You do not deserve this.

冬

Jinshi talks to you this time.

He comes to the residence after being ordered to by the emperor, and he stares at you with your sleeves rolled up in the winter snow arranging the flowers. He does not know what to feel for you. You are his betrothed whom he does not visit, but he is your betrothed whom you do not talk to first. Perhaps it is simply excuses on his end. You do not know what he would think, after all. He was clearly in love with Maomao.

"You could have a gardener tend to such flowers." Jinshi speaks up, and you jump in your skin, visibly surprised to see him in the residence.

"J-Jinshi." You mumble, eyes wide.

"You are dirtying your clothes." He mumbles.

"Is it despicable?" You look up at him, eyes tired.

"It is foreign." He whispers back. "Though, it is not unwelcome."

"I see." You go back to the plants, tending to the roses.

"The emperor... is requesting the two of us for tea."

"I figured you have come for something and not for me." You stand up, dusting off your dress as Jinshi offers his hand to help you back onto the pathing.

You do not take it.

"What have you been up to?"

Jinshi tries to make small talk. You chuckle.

"Not much. I have only been tending to the plants in the garden."

"What about the rooms?"

"They have been filled with warm blankets for the winter." You hum. "The lanterns are all lit since it would be darker earlier in the day, and the walls have been repainted for the season."

"I see." He pauses. "And the salaries of the maids?"

"I have already taught Maomao. Fear not." You glance at the passing maids whisper to one another about you. "When will you be announcing it?"

"I will not be announcing it." He shakes his head. "Once my position is stable, then I will announce it."

"I see." You hear something rustle in the distance, choosing to ignore it as the two of you stop before the emperor's tearoom.

"Announcing the arrival of the second prince and his betrothed!"

"Enter." The emperor speaks from the inside.

The two of you step into the room, bowing to the emperor as he orders for you both to rise.

"Princess." he nods at you. "You have grown yet again."

You nod back. "I have."

"It is great to see." He nods. "Take a seat."

The both of you sit as the doors are shut, and you wait for the emperor to drink his tea.

"Did Jinshi tell you what we are discussing?"

"No." You shake your head.

"Jinshi wishes to marry Maomao." The emperor addresses the problem immediately, and you are reminded of Lady Ah-Duo.

"I am aware." You hum.

"Yet, he does not wish to break off your engagement."

"I am not as open minded to accept a second wife despite the allowance of a harem for the royal family." You chuckle dryly. "Besides. Jinshi only wishes for Maomao to be his wife."

"Yes. I only wish to be wed to Maomao."

"Well, Jinshi." The emperor sighs. "It's a shame, but we cannot break off your engagement to..."

"I am aware."

You hear something rustle again, and a flurry of footsteps rush outside of the door.

The servant yells.

"Maomao has been kidnapped!"

Somewhere in the distance, a rope snaps.

You are a girl You are just a girl You are just... a girl.

You get up and apologize for Jinshi's behavior as he runs out of the room to grab the servant to ask for details, and the emperor shakes his head. You hand Jinshi the seal of his army to him from your pocket, and you watch as he rushes off without a thank you. You stare at him bitterly and miss the way he turns back to look at you. Instead, you turn back to see the emperor staring at you pitifully, and you nod as you call for a maid to bring you into the bathhouse. You need a massage and a break. You need a moment to yourself. You need to relax. Your blood pressure was rising and you were struggling to gauge your importance.

You can say you know Jinshi does not care all you want, but living it is still a different experience.

So, as the maids leave you alone in the bathhouse, you cry, hurricane of tears breaking past your eyes as you cry into the bathwater, years of pain and anguish ricocheting off the walls as the birds outside the bathhouse fly away from your heartbreak. You are just a girl. Why does it have to be you? You are just a girl. You are a girl with no background or home or past but you are just a girl and you should not have to let the world be carried on your back just because you are a girl. You should not be defined by the feelings of a man who does not care about you. You are a girl. You are a simple girl who does not deserve anything that is happening to you.

You are a girl who was stolen from her family because the royal family desired a perfect empress. You are a girl who should not have to carry the weight of the world on her shoulders just because she was unfortunate enough to be picked for a job that did not suit her. Why did you have to be the one who has to fall in love with a man who does not love you back and be stuck being in love with him? He does not want you. He has made that clear enough. It does not matter if he would turn around to look at you one day. You would never be picked first.

You are just a girl.

You do not deserve any of this.

So, you stand up in the bathwater as it splashes with your movement, and you rearrange your robes into something moveable before you break past the doors of the bathhouse, footsteps heavy and undignified as you run through the pathing that you've stained with your sweat and love, past the gates that had welcomed you since birth, and you run, wind in your hair icing your scalp in the summer breeze, panting and gasping for air as you run through the streets and cry, losing a shoe on the way, tears still spilling past your eyes, mouth open to breathe, ignoring all the weird looks from the people on the streets as you run into the pathing in the forest and leave. You are free.

Free from the cage you had been locked in since birth, key left behind on the door as you end up somewhere you know will be better.

It does not matter to you anymore.

You are free.

冬

Jinshi does not know what prompts him to visit you when he returns with Maomao. Perhaps it was because of the pain on your face when he had run away from you in order to go save Maomao. Perhaps it had been the realization while saving Maomao that you had given him one of the only powers you held over him without hesitation. Perhaps you had just handed it to him because you wanted him to see you once he returned. Regardless of your mission, he visits you.

When Jinshi steps foot into your residence after saving Maomao, your maids are rushing around the palace yelling at one another.

"Jinshi-sama!" A maid catches him, grabbing onto his armor in a panicked state as he blinks down at her in surprise.

"What?"

"Do you know where the young madam went?!" She cries, genuine fear and worry leaking all over her face as her cheeks are red from the cold and running around. "We've been searching all over for her since she disappeared from the bathhouse while we weren't looking! She's been missing since your leaving, and we assumed that she would return since she had been visiting the streets more and more often and perhaps had gone to visit her parents' graves, but it has been long and she still has not returned! Do you know where she could be?!"

Jinshi furrows his brows.

Missing. You're missing. You are missing.

You, who did not step foot outside of the residence unless it was to have tea with the consorts, was missing.

"I do not know." Jinshi shakes his head. "Where does she frequent in the streets?"

"We sent maids, but they—"

"We finally found the madam's shoe!" A maid yells from the entrance, holding up something in her hand. "Come!"

The maids all crowd around her as she reveals your shoe, and Jinshi grimaces.

It is your shoe. Your shoe, muddied, bloodied, wet with water. Your shoe, that was typically a size too small.

The maids all grimace at the sight, staring up at Jinshi for confirmation.

"Keep searching. She must be there somewhere." He turns away, brows furrowed. "She could not have gotten very far. She has been nurtured by the palace, so surely she is somewhere within reach."

The maids scramble to look, the sun turning it morning, Jinshi searching with them, quietly praying that you would return once the sun did. The sun returns once, twice, and then too many to count with his hands. The sun returns time and time again, and you do not.

You do not, and the maids sent to the streets also come back with no avail.

Even with Maomao asking the lower-ranked maids, you do not return.

You are gone.

Whether it is you have passed or you are missing, it makes no difference.

You are gone.

"I shall prepare for her ceremony." He closes his eyes, brows furrowing.

That is all they need to hear.

春

You haunt every corner of Jinshi's life.

He moves into the residence you left behind shortly after your burial ceremony, and he brings everything with him. He touches nothing you arranged, only bringing his personal items and work, and he sits in your tearoom each afternoon to work on the papers handed to him by the emperor. He drinks your favorite tea because he finds himself slowly losing his sanity with each passing moment that you do not manage the residence.

He is fully capable, but he is just not as well-versed in it as you are.

It drains him more than he'd like. Maomao is still a maid despite the purchase of her as a consort, and he does not wish to overwhelm her. He still very much loves her, he believes, but he supposes losing a huge part of his childhood is even worse in some way. He had chosen to neglect you, but it did not mean he did not cherish you. He could not count the times when you had linked pinkies with him at formal events with the emperor and empress while the two of you stood tall all because you were to be a certain way at a certain place.

Eventually, the two of you had outgrown the need to hold hands or pinkies in official events.

Though, that wasn't the only thing he had to thank you for. He was not a gifted child. He watched you speed through the materials and still have time to play with him, and it made him bitter. He was bitter. You had always been groomed to be perfect and desirable, and it only made him despise you more. Perhaps he had avoided you because you were too put together and perfect. He did not despise you. He does not despise you. In fact, dare he say it, he might have even loved you and forced himself to bury it away.

He could not love you the way you deserved to be loved. You deserved the position of empress, not the position of a eunuch's wife. You did not deserve to be warped into the madness of the royal family in the way that you did. He had made the mistake with you, so he would not make the mistake with Maomao. His heart sours in his chest. Perhaps he had been a liar. He had only avoided you to avoid the pain in his heart. He had been a coward afraid of hurting you only to hurt you more. He is a coward.

He groans, head buried in his papers as Maomao comes in with his dinner.

"You look awful."

Jinshi shifts his head to the side to look at Maomao, closing his eyes again afterward. Her filter around him had disappeared ever since you had left. He does not know if he is thankful or not.

Things have changed since your disappearance.

The maids have all stopped referring to anyone as the madam of the house, only waiting for Maomao to officially give Jinshi an answer to his proposal, and Jinshi has become the master of the house, much different to when they referred to him as Jinshi-sama. He is no longer someone underneath you in the residence that he was to live in with you. He is now the only person who was given a proper status in a palace of such. He groans when he remembers that he has more paperwork. Perhaps you should have been given less to do in the residence.

"Still no news?" He grumbles.

"No." Maomao hums. "She would hate you if you starved yourself like this."

"She did not even know I skipped meals occasionally."

"She did." Maomao refutes. "All of your meals were looked over by her. Your meals had the highest nutrition out of all the meals."

"She did not do that." Jinshi sighs, getting out of your desk to sit at the table. "She did not do that for me."

"She did." Maomao sets the food before him. "It could have only been her. She was the one who let things in and out of the kitchen. She had your allergies memorized like the back of her hand."

"I was such an asshole to her." Jinshi groans.

"You were."

"You're supposed to comfort me as my betrothed!" Jinshi cries.

"I am not your betrothed." Maomao shrugs. "Please get back to work once you finish eating. Gaoshun is asking when this month's report will be ready."

"Please tell him his master is going to kill himself." Jinshi groans. "I can't even bring in an aide because this residence is so secretive."

"I may introduce someone to you." Maomao offers.

"You know people other than me? It cannot be a woman."

"It will not be." Maomao affirms.

Jinshi contemplates it. You had been bred and raised for the purpose of being an ideal wife, so you managed all the numbers and reports of your shared residence despite Jinshi being in charge of a handful of matters. They seemed trivial to him back then, but now that he has to wait for those numbers to reach him, he finds that perhaps you were going through much more than you letting him know about. Not even the maids would tell him how often you were holed up in your office.

Though, according to your maids, you had barely struggled with it, your estimations always on point, even when Jinshi handed you bills late.

For you to be so much better than Jinshi.

How infuriating of you.

夏

"Jinshi." Maomao speaks from the door. "I have brought a eunuch as your new assistant."

"I do not need one." He grumbles. "I am fine on my own."

"No. He is to help manage the estate." Maomao doesn't let him argue, opening the door to reveal his new aide.

The man nods at him, bowing his head. "I greet my new master. My name is Diu."

"There is no need for that." He shakes his head. "Are you well versed in the matters of the house?"

"There is no person who is better versed than I am." He nods. "I assure you."

Jinshi sighs. "Training shall start tomorrow."

"Yes, master."

Jinshi finds that his new aide is just as quick with numbers and things of the residence as you were, fingers fast and calculations smooth, speeding up the process for Jinshi. When he asks how he knew, he smiles at him, telling him that he had helped his wife with her household matters in order to alleviate the stress of being pregnant. Jinshi doesn't pry, but his aide looks too young to be a man capable of such wise thought. He looks too delicate, jaw too smooth and lashes too long. Had Jinshi been any more manic, he might have accused his aide of actually being a woman.

He tilts his head as he watches his aide look over the papers and speak up.

"Master Jinshi, do you have the scroll for the reimbursement report?"

Jinshi nods, handing him the scroll as Diu scribbles down the numbers, handing it to Maomao with a nod as she wanders off to hand it off to another official.

"Please call for me when the next report is due." Diu nods, about to follow her out.

"Are you not a personal aide?"

"I was told by Sister Maomao that I am only to help with the matters of the mansion."

"You... should arrange the guest rooms." Jinshi grumbles. "Please. Are you well versed in the other matters of the house?"

"I am." Diu nods. "Leave the matters of the estate to me."

"Maomao." Jinshi calls for her as she appears at the door. "Diu will be helping you with the affairs of decorating."

She nods. "Shall we go?"

"We shall." Diu smiles, and Jinshi's stomach churns uncomfortably.

He smiles the same way you do.

How nauseating.

How long had it been since you had smiled at him? You had only smiled at Maomao, lips curled into a teasing one, never staring at Jinshi when you had. Perhaps that was his flaw. He was cursed to see parts of you in other people until he could own up to his own emotions. Perhaps he was much too similar to you. Perhaps he is just a boy. Perhaps he just misses what you could have been had he spoken to you. Perhaps he should have reminded you that you were not alone.

You left him, but he forced you to the door, giving you the key you had been taught to never use.

Perhaps he had been the push to force you to leave.

How sickening.

秋

Jinshi finds that Maomao gets along with Diu much more than makes him comfortable.

Maomao discusses and lingers around Diu often, fingers brushing his skin as he leans down to let her wipe the fallen lash from his cheek, a flirty smile on his lips when she pulls away. Maomao does not react. She never does. Yet, it makes Jinshi uncomfortable. He no longer knows if it's how eerily similar Diu is to you or how Diu keeps making a move on Maomao, but it makes his skin crawl uncomfortably each time he comes to Maomao's aide, reprimanding you and reminding you to keep your hands off of her as she was his only love.

"My apologies."

It is the same thing over and over again.

Jinshi finds that the more Diu flirts with Maomao, the less he wants Maomao, his jealous streak overtaken by habituation, and eventually he finds himself just staring until the two are uncomfortable. Maomao seems far too comfortable with Diu's movements, and Jinshi finds it infuriating. So, Jinshi steps in one day, pulling on Diu's wrist as he cages Maomao into the wall.

"Perhaps the master would prefer for me to romance him instead?" Diu pins Jinshi to the wall instead, tilting his head with his fingers, lips curled into a teasing smile. Jinshi flushes red, a shudder rippling down his back at the sight of the shorter pining him to the wall. Maomao watches from the side in amusement, lips curled upward with a cheeky grin as Jinshi eyes her for help.

"My eyes are here, young master," Diu tilts his head again, lips curled into a sweet smile. "Cheating on me already? I'm your servant before I am hers, you know?"

Jinshi shudders, cheeks red as Diu turn to Maomao, a victorious smile on his face.

"Master, it is time for..." Gaoshun trails off, pulling Diu off of Jinshi. "What are you doing?!"

"The master got jealous I was hitting on Maomao." Diu smiles.

Jinshi leaves, glancing behind him at Diu, heart racing in his chest as he tries to calm his cheeks. He is breathtaking, that eunuch. His aide has a beauty that could rival his. He would stop interfering. If he were to get hit on again... heavens knows what kind of atrocities he would commit. Diu is too strong. No wonder the maids in the palace had been flocking to get a look at his face. Maybe that was why he was dethroned as one of the most attractive men in the court. Diu was simply too attractive for his own good.

God, maybe he is a homosexual.

The thought rips through his body as his lips pull down in concern, blinking slowly at the revelation. Damn. Has he stooped this low? Was he willing to go so low as to fall for a man who reminded him of you? Maybe Jinshi was losing his mind. Perhaps this is what the matchmaker meant by he would suffer greatly if he were to lose his yin. He had tried not to touch you, but he had only hurt you instead. He was losing his mind to the point that he was getting flustered over men.

Diu really does things to him. You do things to him.

The man's fingers remind Jinshi of yours as well, reminders of years that are lost in his memory, years when the two of you would hold hands under tables and before the empress, years when he would watch you practice dances with your teachers, hair fluttering in the wind as you moved like a princess. It reminds him of years when you would be able to fit in your shoe size and walk without pain, when you were still young and a child, crying about not wanting to bind your feet.

You got your wish, but your shoe size had still been shrunk one size down to try and prevent your feet from growing.

Sooner than later, you lost your ability to dance.

Jinshi wonders if Diu would be able to do it. His body is slim enough for the dance, and had he been there when the foreign envoys were visiting, perhaps he could have taken Jinshi's place. Swimming in the dress was a nightmare. Perhaps Diu could have worked the same. He has the face for it. Oh, how convenient. Jinshi would no longer need to dress up as a woman with Diu around.

"The next time we have to do female imitation... we are calling Diu." Jinshi shudders.

Gaoshun raises a brow.

Jinshi shakes his head.

Perhaps if Jinshi were desperate enough, he could doll Diu up to resemble you and hold him for the night. As long as the words did not get out, he would be alright. If he were desperate enough, he would sleep in your room, covered by your blanket, engulfed by your faded scent. The scent of summer flowers and a young love. If Jinshi were desperate enough, he could send more soldiers to find you. But Jinshi is not desperate enough.

Not yet. He is not desperate enough yet.

He may be sick to his head thinking about you, but he is not desperate.

冬

There is a crowd of consorts outside of Jinshi's window.

No. Not for him, surprisingly. For Diu.

"Diu-sama!! Look our way!!" The women yell, and Diu looks up from his desk, a smile on his face, waving gently. Both Jinshi and Maomao grimace, frown on their faces at his friendliness. Jinshi finds that Diu has an effect worse than he does. Perhaps this is his karma for playing along with the consorts every now and then. No wonder Maomao found him infuriating when he did so.

"Diu." Maomao hisses.

The man nods, leaning out the window to smile at the women, sighing. "Do you mind giving us some space? We need to finish the report for this month and my master is having quite the moment, you know?"

A girl faints, but the rest of them ultimately scatter off, and you hum, shutting the window.

"The total has been written down."

Maomao hands Jinshi a scroll, and Jinshi nods.

"Diu, is there a reason you never write the reports?"

"Whatever do you mean? I wrote them during summer, no?" You tilt your head. "Master Jinshi, you told me to stop writing them because my writing was not legible."

Jinshi does not remember that, but doesn't argue.

"Let's go for a break today." You pull Maomao out of her seat, smiling at Jinshi. "Master, will you be joining us?"

Jinshi groans. "please."

Diu offer him a hand, and he takes it, his hand strangely familiar in his grasp. It makes him feel nostalgic, almost. It feels like when he used to hold your hand during ceremonies with the royal court. Yet, he is not you. Diu is not you. So, Jinshi pushes the feelings back as he is led through the streets, lights vibrant as he stops at stalls for snacks and food.

Maomao runs out of coins at one point, and Diu offers him more, but she shakes head. She has some things she could trade for coins. She does so, pulling a pin out of her pocket and exchanging it for a bag of coins, a grin on his face. "let's get going."

"What do you even need so many coins for?" Diu raises a brow, picking one up.

"Master doesn't have copper coins."

"Excuse you! I do!" Jinshi tries to argue.

"It's why he has not yet bought anything."

Diu purses his lips in amusement, laughing.

Jinshi thinks he sounds like bells ringing.

How nostalgic.

Almost as if you were there standing there before him. He misses you, perhaps. He misses what the two of you were, and what you could have been had he picked you first. The guilt eats at him more and more, and it seems as though he could open his mouth and confess that he had a burning desire for you. It was almost as if he could have picked you from the start and none of this would have occurred.

"Diu." Jinshi calls. "Are you married?"

"Why? In love with me already, master?" Diu winks, blowing him a kiss.

Jinshi shudders, cheeks red, head ringing. Flirt.

"No. You have the same mannerisms as someone, and many say that a husband resembles his wife." Jinshi shakes his head. "You remind me of someone."

"The one that got away? I will be." Diu laughs as Maomao grabs him and runs off as Jinshi chases them. "Perhaps that is simply my role in this narrative!"

You.

Diu reminds him of you. So Jinshi finds it ironic that he chases after a man who resembles you in the streets of the city outside of the palace walls. Perhaps the two of you would have done something similar in another universe. He would have chased you in the streets, and the two of you would have been free to do whatever without the weight of the palace. Perhaps you would have been worth more in your own eyes, and he would have cared more for you during the time you would have been with him.

Perhaps you would have chosen to stay with him in that universe.

Perhaps he would be less bitter then, too.

春

In spring, the silkworms produce new silk, and the products from the merchants come in. Jinshi observes them, ultimately unable to tell the difference between certain ones because of his lack of practice, and Maomao can only stand and blink, unused to picking them herself. Instead, she steps back for Diu to look at them, the man's fingers feeling at the fabric as he raises a brow.

"These seem to be cheap quality. Are you trying to rip off the palace?" The man raises a brow.

"N-no way!"

"The threading is different one from the one currently present." Diu clicks his tongue. "This is the one commonly used for the middle class."

"A-are you not middle class? The funds mentioned to me a-are less than before." The merchant cowers slightly as Maomao hands Diu the invoice.

"No. The funding has not changed this season."

"Ah, well, surely the inflation has—"

"Nope. The economic state of the capital has not changed either. If you want a couple extra coins just say it." Diu groans. "We can always change suppliers. My family has quite the good one, you know?"

The merchant rolls his eyes. "These are the same blankets as the rest of the palace. If you don't want them—"

Maomao steps up. "The empress uses different ones from a different supplier. Had we needed low-quality textiles as this, we would have talked to the maids."

The merchant scoffs in offense. "What do you know—"

"I know that the palace uses a different supplier because you started cheating the main palace years ago." Diu speaks up, stepping close to the merchant. "Would you like us to switch too? We could formally decree you to be banned from the palace."

"Y-you're a mere servant. You wouldn't dare!"

Diu gives the man a closed-eye smile, and he grumbles, handing over the better blankets buried under the bad ones. The servants bring them in as Diu handles the money, and Jinshi blinks in surprise. He did not know the rest of the palace started using a new supplier. He had only known that Gyokuyou had changed merchants. Diu must have done very thorough research prior to picking up blankets.

"How could you tell?" Jinshi raises a brow.

"It wasn't imperfectly perfect." Diu shrugs. "Also, hand woven silk by the skilled is bound to have flaws, but this one had too many. They may have flaws, but their edges do not fray to this extent."

"Wow." Jinshi hums. "That is impressive."

"In order to be a husband deserving of my wife's noble title, I have to make up in other ways."

"Does your wife not have brothers?"

"No, she simply fell for my charm." Diu winks.

Maomao gags from the side. Though... not surprising.

"A shame you are a eunuch..." Jinshi trails off, eyes wandering. "You seem to be the type to have many sons."

Diu holds a hand over his mouth and his crotch, pretending to be scandalized. "Master! Are you... into me?"

"Nope." Jinshi turns on his heel. "Let us go."

"Where to?" Maomao follows anyway, shrugging when Jinshi doesn't answer Diu's question.

"Who did you hear palace affairs from?"

"I was wandering." Diu shrugs.

It's suspicious, but Jinshi doesn't pry further. After all, Maomao brought him in.

No matter how much Diu is suspicious, Jinshi could never bring you back anyway.

So even if Jinshi begged and sobbed and cried to the moon to return his lover, he could not have it. You had left him. You were gone. No matter how hard he looked, your body could be out in the cold and abandoned, eaten by the wolves or some other sort. It is awful. He could search all he wanted, sending all the guards he wanted, but he would not have you back. He could not live in such a way. You were gone, only your shoe left.

Perhaps Diu was sent by the heavens to remind him of you for the rest of his days.

It is his fault, after all.

夏

There are reports of your ghost haunting the walls.

First, one of the younger ranking maids hear a girl crying in your old room, then an older maid sees a woman rush through the halls at night. Eventually Gaoshun spots a woman clothed in white dancing on the outer walls with Maomao. It is truly a terrifying sight. Jinshi tries his best to ignore it, but ultimate he sees you dancing on the outer walls of the palace as well. It is same position of the moon when Gaoshun and Maomao saw it, but you are dressed in red this time, wedding gown fluttering from your figure, phoenix crown pinned in your hair.

Jinshi stands and stares.

You dance, footsteps light as they used to be when you were but a child and Jinshi watched you in your classes, and your dress flutters in the wind, silk probably cool against your skin, and Jinshi stops to stare, some wretched form of longing on his face. It is nostalgic. It is everything he had once seen in you, your art, your beauty, your existence, all tucked into the back of his mind, threatening to spill over and ruin him. He watches you as you make the same steps you had so many years ago, your memory burning into his mind through his eyes as his conscious forces him to engrain every detail of your ghost into his mind.

The paleness of your skin to the sunken eyelids, to the bloody red that was on your lips with the red on your body. The makeup is fitting of a bride, yet the moon shining behind your body makes you look a mixture of grief and regret in Jinshi's eyes. You do not look down at him, almost as though lost in your own dance, too enthralled with the moon and its secrets as you kick your leg to spin and flutter through the air. Jinshi can do nothing as he look sup at you, exhaustion creeping up his body slowly, almost as though you were the moon herself despite the red on your body.

Your ghost is haunting him as a reminder that you are his wife. Your ghost is dancing to remind him of the day the two of you had been told to bed, but had not. Your ghost is driving him into a corner the same way he had driven you out the entrance. His mind is stuck staring and engraving it into his mind to forever regret you. His mind is stuck holding his chin up to stare at you as the metal in your hair jingles in the wind. His mind is stuck, and he refuses to fight against it.

Instead of stopping you, he stares, fingers stuck to his side as you spin and fall off the wall, and he climbs up, lashes fluttering as he stares down at where you would have fallen, only your dress remaining. He stares down, legs hanging from the wall, something pulling him to fall down with you, something urging him to leave with you. Your ghost tilts its head to run your fingers through his hair, lips brushing his as it urges him to fall down with it— fall down with you. Maybe that would be a way to right his wrongs and wash away his sins. He leans forward into your touch, fingers loosening on the wall.

"Master." Diu's voice breaks him from your trance, the man climbing up the wall after him. "Is something wrong?"

Jinshi blinks at where your ghost was, your fingers no longer on his cheek and your lips no longer brushing his. Ghosts do not exist. He was simply falling to an evil spirit's intentions. Diu had simply freed him. You would not have wanted him to pass away as easily as this. You would have wanted him to suffer through what you did. "I saw the madam."

"The previous owner of the residence?"

"Something like that." Jinshi mumbles. "Do you miss your wife?"

"More often than not." Diu sits next to the man, pulling out a bottle. "Wine?"

Jinshi accepts it, pressing the wine to his lips, legs hanging over the railing as he stares down, blinking slowly at the fabric. Your ghost is gone, yet the fabric still reaches for him. He could see you wearing it. Perhaps it was just a heavy memory of seeing you in all red, gold embroidery on your gown, lips pulled into a sweet smile despite the ever crumbling relationship that was threatening to snap between the two of you. Perhaps Jinshi had a rope somewhere as well.

"How do you cope with missing your wife?"

"She writes me letters." Diu smiles. "I simply reread them when I get lonely. Or, I send a bird for her."

Jinshi grumbles. "Must be nice to have a loving wife."

"A happy marriage goes both ways, master." Diu offers him more. "You must take care of your wife before she takes care of herself and leaves you."

"Do you think someone is doing this to mess with me?" Jinshi rests his cheek on his legs, pulling them closer to his chest as he holds his cup to the man. "I grieve for her loss. Is that not enough?"

"Perhaps they simply miss their madam." Diu hums. "Did the madam teach the servants?"

"There is no servant in the house who could dance the same way she did." Jinshi closes his eyes, wind rustling the branches behind him. The summer breeze is warm but not too warm. In the distance, in the residence, he can still hear the sound of your laughter as a child. You did not laugh enough as an adult around him. He does not know what you are. What does your laughter sound like now? Maybe you stopped laughing because of him.

He misses you.

"Master?"

"Diu." Jinshi mumbles, eyes closed. "If she comes, please wake me."

"Will do, master."

You never return after that, and Jinshi feels sick.

秋

In fall, foreign envoys bring new mirrors. Diu accepts them and lead them to Jinshi, lips curled into a sweet smile as the mirrors are placed within the residences. The old mirrors had been ruined by a maid on accident, but it was not something worth fretting or worrying over. Jinshi stands in front of the mirror, looking at himself, raising a brow when Maomao and Diu peer from behind him at the reflection.

"I have not seen one in a solid minute." Maomao mumbles. "Diu, how about you?"

"My wife has one at home, but this small mirror would be helpful." Diu hums. "She will like it if we have a covering made for her as well."

Jinshi huffs dramatically loud at the word wife.

"What is not too light?" Maomao raises a brow.

"Perhaps a hollow metal." Diu hums. "I shall check the items she owns."

Jinshi huffs again.

"Sorry, master." Diu smiles, eyes closed, teeth out. "I forgot the madam is gone."

Jinshi is going to have an aneurysm because of Diu.

"I am convinced you are mentioning your wife to drive me insane."

"Perhaps." Diu hums. "I miss her very much, after all."

"Then why did you work here?"

"Master." Diu deadpans. "The pay here is incredible. My wife now has the ability to spend my wealth rather than her family's. Is every husband's dream not to spoil their wife rotten?"

"No." Jinshi grumbles. "Perhaps I should do that for the madam."

"The madam is gone." Maomao deadpans. "Perhaps focus on repainting the walls of the residence first."

"Was the report sent?"

"Not yet." Diu shakes his head. "We are missing a fund as the money has grown to be less."

"Perhaps it is for the repainting of the walls."

"I would assume that the repainting must be done during spring." Jinshi frowns. "Was it during fall?"

"I am not sure." Diu shakes his head. "Did the madam ever mention such?"

"It was fall." Maomao hums. "She complained that it should have been spring once, but she never changed it since it rains more in spring than in fall."

"How do the foreigners put it? April showers do bring May's flowers." Diu hums. "Perhaps the Madam had a reason."

"We can repaint it some other time."

"She would kill you." Maomao deadpans.

"She is not here."

"Does not change that she would kill you." Maomao deadpans. "Perhaps her ghost will return and ruin your life again."

Jinshi pauses. "Well, I do miss her."

Maomao blinks at him in concern.

"I shall put it on the report." Diu nods. "Anything else?"

"I believe that is it."

"Then, may I be released after? I would like to drop by somewhere."

Maomao raises a brow, but Jinshi does not question it.

"Of course. You are free for the rest of the day."

Maomao springs up in her seat. "May I follow?"

Diu nods.

"Going without me?"

"You will stand out too much." Diu deadpans. "We are visiting a teahouse."

"You have a wife!?" Jinshi shrieks, confusion all over his face.

"Not that kind." Diu deadpans.

"What will you be trying?"

"I heard they have a new treat." Maomao hums. "We have been saving for it."

"If you let me go I will pay."

"Hard pass." The two of them grimace.

"We don't lack the funds."

"We can pay."

Jinshi gasps, frowning as he watches the two leave the room when Diu finishes the report.

A plate of the new pastries rests on his desk the next day, but he still pouts and frowns.

He later realizes it's because you had once made the treat for him as kids. That was why he was so upset. Your memories with him haunted him each step he took in the mansion. Perhaps he should have reached for your ghost that day and fallen. Perhaps that would have sped up his fraying string, holding onto nothing as he had lost you.

Perhaps then, he would feel less awful.

冬

In winter, Diu and Maomao help set up the new blankets. The wool is warm, and Maomao sighs, cheeks red from the cold. Diu takes off his coat, wrapping it around Maomao as she blows into her hands and sighs.

"Thank you." She mumbles. "It is cold."

"It is." Diu stares at the floor, pulling out a stone from his pocket to hand to Maomao. "A heated stone, perhaps?"

"Thank you." She mumbles, pulling her clothes open to pop the stone in with the rest. "It is cold. I do not remember the palace being this cold."

Diu goes quiet, glancing around.

"There used to be heated bricks underneath the wood here."

Maomao's eyes widen, neck snapping to look at her coworker.

"That was what I heard from the maids, though. I do not believe the maids told the master either." He shrugs. "How's the master?"

"It is report week." Maomao grimaces.

Diu shudders. "I am surprised he has not called for me yet."

"You remind him too much of the late madam." She shares a look with the man, only turning away when Jinshi yells from inside his office. "He prefers to not—"

"Someone call Diu!" He sobs, and Diu snorts.

"Late madam or not, perhaps desperate situations call for desperate measures." Diu nods, knocking on the door. "Master, I am outside."

The door opens, and Jinshi groans. "Diu! Why is this season's reimbursement report so much lower compared to the previous ones?!"

Jinshi's hair is disheveled, the poor man looking as though he hadn't slept in days. It is a new look to Diu, and it makes Maomao laugh. Diu steps next to him, observing the differences, pointing at the cost in insulation. "I heard from the maids the late madam heated bricks for winter underneath the wood."

"She did?"

"The maids mentioned it." Diu shrugs. "So?"

"Is that the only cost? Who is in charge of the bricks?"

"I am not aware." Diu shakes his head.

"The head maid refuses to tell me. Diu, please." Jinshi cries. "I am not well versed in this."

"In my residence, my wife would hire one of the servants to do so. Perhaps it could be found in their salaries."

Jinshi flips through the book as Diu checks everything over, and he cheers when he finds the maid. Jinshi misses you. You did this much better than he did, and though he had neglected you and the whole situation was his fault, it did not stop him from missing you. Your presence in the residence had simply been enough to him. Now, he had to live without you or your presence in a residence that was meant for two.

"Thank you, Diu." Jinshi grumbles, writing down the note on heating bricks, head slamming into the wood of your desk as Diu takes the report. "God, I miss her."

Diu smiles back, eyes closed, almost as though he were insincere.

In the shadow of Diu, Jinshi sees you.

That smile with his eyes closed reminded him of all the times you had smiled at the officials insincerely, abusing your power as the empress' favorite in order to get them rid of. Perhaps Jinshi is simply going insane because you are gone. The ghost of you haunts him everywhere, including in the body of the new aide. Perhaps it is simply divine punishment from the heavens above.

In the closed-eyed, tight-lipped smile of his new aide, he sees the ghost of you whose smile had changed from a sweet smile with your eyes on him, cheeks flushed, to a smile in which you had not even bothered to look at him, eyes closed and lips pulled upward, lacking the flush that he had grown up seeing. His fault. It is always his fault. There had not been a single moment in which he was right when it had come to you. He is to be despised. You had been right to run away. He will never deserve the love you had given him in the past.

Even if he were to cut his own string and tie it to yours, you could always cut him off of you, simply running away as you had previously. Perhaps it was simply his curse to be this way. He could never love you now that you were gone, and he was the only one to blame. He is the culprit of his own demise.

How loathsome of him.

春

In spring, Jinshi attends the royal court's meeting, lashes thick and full, blinking quickly to blink away his exhaustion. Waking up before the sun was never something worth it. He eats the dishes prepared, listening to the ministers and eunuchs talk about everything. Had you been next to him, he would have had a better time, at least focused for the sake of you, but you are not. Instead, he has Diu who has been testing his dishes, pretty face charming even the married men of the court. Had Diu been born a woman, perhaps he would have been stolen away instantly. Tis a great day for his personal aide to be a man.

Now that Jinshi thinks about it, it was the same with you.

You would be busy reading the material and participating, and the rest of the men would be busy ogling at you. You, who had been raised to be the palace flower, a woman in power worthy of standing next to the second prince. You had been worth far more than what those men could have paid to own you for. Perhaps the late empress was right to make you unattainable to the men of the court. It was disgusting— the way their eyes raked Diu's figure the same way they raked yours at the time. In his eyes, the men are no better than rabid animals. At least rabid animals were put down.

"Master?" Diu's voice snaps Jinshi out of his thoughts. "Is the dish not to your liking?"

"It is." Jinshi shakes his head. "I have not much an appetite."

"I see." Diu hums. "Shall I request something else?"

"No need." Jinshi finishes the rest of the dish, sighing as he puts his chopsticks down. "What is the next dish?"

"I believe it is pheasant."

Jinshi frowns staring at Diu's lips.

"Did Maomao put lipstick on you?"

"Hm? Is it strange?" Diu smiles, holding his cheek. "She said I should doll up a little as your personal attendant. Though, this isn't lipstick. I believe Maomao simply put something on my face."

Jinshi blinks slowly, mentally swatting away all his thoughts as the next dish arrives and Diu presses it to his lips, biting and chewing slowly. Jinshi stares at his lips, pale and pink, and he swallows unconsciously as Diu licks his lips, lips curled into a smile similar to Maomao's. The men of the court pay attention too, a strange charm emitting off of the servant's body. Enthralling. He looked enthralling, lips curled into that sinful grin. Next thing Jinshi knows, Diu is probably going to tell him it's poisonous like Maomao did years ago.

"You can't have this, master." He hums.

"Why not?" Jinshi swallows, throat dry all of a sudden.

"It is poisonous."

Called it.

The royal court goes into chaos as all the men spit it out, fooled by the way Diu had looked so elated at the flavor, and a handful of servants rush to their aid. Jinshi lunges at Diu as he bites the rest of the meat, punching him in the gut as Diu spits the meat out into Jinshi's hand.

"Are you crazy?!"

"Master, poisons do not affect me." Diu tilts his head, eyes wide. "Rest assured. The one who has tried to harm you will not get off free either."

Jinshi stares at him incredulously, lips pulled into a frown as he calls for a doctor to check the man. He taps his table impatiently as he waits for Diu to return, a new poison tester confirming that the pheasant was indeed poisonous. Jinshi watches as the new guy passes out and white foams from his mouth. How did... how did Diu almost swallow the pheasant without issue? Jinshi tries his best not to think about it, closing his eyes. Perhaps Maomao is just accustomed to people who taste poison without any effects.

Diu returns a little before the final dish is served, giving Jinshi a closed-eyed smile before he tastes the new dish. It is a palate cleanser this time. Jinshi watches in worry as Diu presses the spoon to his lips, eyes opening as he raises a brow. Jinshi cannot tell if it is a good raised brow or a bad one.

"Servant, is it poison?"

"No." Diu smiles. "It is simply delicious. You may have it, master."

Jinshi only has half, cheeks flushed as he hands the rest back to Diu, covering his mouth with his sleeve as he mouthes words at the man.

'Finish the rest.'

Diu does not complain, drinking straight from the bowl as he licks his lips, eyes bright and happy as he hands it to another servant.

"Thank you, master." He beams, smiling.

Jinshi's heart skips a beat.

How dangerous.

The rest of the court proceeds as normal, the report given by the workers, and the emperor nodding at the report. Nothing out of the ordinary. though, he notes the new numbers in spending. When you were there, they were lower. Perhaps a handful of officials are using the chance to steal money from the royal family now that you no longer look over the ledger before each payment. Jinshi should start investigating. Surely the crushing of the Shi clan should have served as a fair warning. Perhaps not.

Jinshi looks back to glance at Diu, the servant's eyes oddly sharp. Usually servants would have gotten bored at this point. Instead, Diu looks almost intrigued. He wonders what kind of an upbringing would have created a man who cared so much about monetary affairs of a palace. Though, it should have been clear since Diu had been the one hired to help with monetary affairs. His mathematical ability was incredible. Had Jinshi a child, he would have hired the man to teach his young his ways.

But in the same, Jinshi knows he would have not needed an outside teacher when you were right there. Should he had kids with you, you could cover the vast majority of teaching have you the time. You know the palace better than him at times. He wonders how you are, lips pulled into a frown as he focuses back on the minister. Perhaps Maomao had given Diu the same makeup you used to wear to mess with him. How mean of her. It pains him in the heart that he had been the one to cut your rope and now was burning his own.

He misses you.

夏

Summer is great.

Jinshi has less work during summer as a result, and Diu and Maomao cover the affairs of rearranging the residence. The two are still close. It makes Jinshi bitter, but not bitter in the way he would have been seasons ago, he is bitter that Diu is spending less and less time with him. Perhaps he is bitter that Diu, a man who reminded him of you, spends more time with Maomao than he. It is a reflection of himself, yes, but it does not stop the childish jealously that bubbles in his chest.

"Diu!" Jinshi whines, calling for the servant as he throws open the man's room.

The room is empty, but a familiar scent flutters through the air, knocking the nostalgia right into his lungs. The incense sticks burning are the ones you used to put in the residence. During the few times Jinshi would visit, this scent would always be present in your room, your hair, and your being. This scent was you to him. He finds it strange that Diu would have it in his room, but he does not question it. Perhaps it reminds him of his wife.

"Master? What are you doing in my room?"

Jinshi freezes, caught red-handed. "...I was looking for you." He coughs. "Where were you?"

"I went to run errands with Maomao." Diu bows. "Is something wrong? You were looking at the incense sticks."

"They remind me... anyway." Jinshi tries to stroll out casually. "Is that your favorite scent?"

"My wife." Diu smiles. "It reminds me of my wife."

"I see..." Jinshi trails off. "Whatever! Be sure to tell Maomao to bring me dinner."

Diu calls an affirmative after Jinshi as he rushes out of the room. Too much like you. The scent smelled too much like you. You, who had used perfume oils because you liked it. It reminded Jinshi of your scent for as long as he had known you, the signature smell that brushed his nose apparent for as long as his memories with you would run. Perhaps he would forget about you at night.

Night strikes slowly.

The grief of losing you hits Jinshi slowly.

First, he looks around the room you had prepared for the two of you, the room you had stayed in alone, fingers brushing on the paint on the wall, a reminder that he needed to call for the painters to repaint the residence. Then, he sits down in bed, robes warm on his skin, eyes tired as he lays down. His fingers brush the silk the same way you would have while inspecting the quality, the same way he had seen Diu do so to the blankets, and he holds it to his forehead, heart stuttering and stumbling, pain in his chest too much to bear. It was simply too much.

Then, he cries.

Jinshi cries, tears slow as he lays in your bed, holding the blankets to his chest as he whimpers, missing you. You. You who had lived in the residence for years without a visit from him. He is undeserving of you. Perhaps he would be cursed to live the rest of his days crying in the same bed you had to cry in. He would be dammed for all of eternity to never see you again. Perhaps that is his curse. He is simply too weak to admit his love, too prideful to bend down first, too lost to find his way again. He wanted nothing to do with you when you traded the whole world for him. His curse would be to never hold you again, even when he needed you the most.

He sniffles, brows pulled together as he clings harder onto the blanket.

He does not notice the footsteps outside the door nor the knocking from Diu.

"Master Jinshi? Are you alright? I hear crying." Diu's voice rings from the door. "I may bring tea if you would allow it. That helps me when I am hurt."

"It is fine." He speaks, voice oddly even.

"I shall bring you a cup of tea and towel to help freshen up. We could not afford to let the master of the house's beauty be wounded." Diu speaks, stepping and walking off.

Jinshi wipes his tears with his fingers, heaving. When Diu returns, he opens the door after a quick knock, setting the tea on the table as he sits by his bed, helping Jinshi up, eyes gentle, hands wiping at his tears with the cloth, and Jinshi sniffs. Diu's eyes remind him of yours, even. The same gentle shade he had grown up seeing, the same shade that sparkled under the sun's light or the moon's reflection. It is a haunting memory of you. Perhaps the two of you are from the same lineage. Or perhaps Jinshi was simply losing it.

"Diu."

"Yes, master?"

"Are you this gentle with your wife?"

"But of course."

Jinshi sighs dramatically. "Maybe in another life I was born your wife."

Diu snorts. "That would be quite hard, master."

"Why?"

"What if I were born a woman as well?"

"Then I would be born your husband." He pouts, eyes red as he stares at the man. "What tea did you bring?"

"Green tea." Diu hums. "Will you drink it?"

"Please." Jinshi frowns. "Could I meet your wife one day?"

"That would be quite hard." Diu frowns, carrying the tray over and setting it down by the bed.

"Why so?"

Diu does not speak, handing the cup to Jinshi instead, smiling.

"Is she gone?"

"It is hard to explain." Diu hums. "Master, let me know if you require anything else."

"No." Jinshi shakes his head, drinking the tea. It's slightly sweet and brewed to perfection.

It tastes like the tea you used to brew.

It brings tears to his eyes unconsciously, a frown on his face. You had learned to brew tea to perfection. The temperature had been right, you had served them in their little cups, lips pressed to the edge of the cup as you tested it for heat, and then set it before Jinshi, offering him a drink. You had brewed green tea without the bitterness that other consorts had, and you had served tea to even the emperor when it was permitted. Jinshi might just be losing it. No, he has not been in a regular state since your disappearance. He is simply reaping the seeds of his actions.

"Is something wrong?"

"You brew tea like someone I used to know." Jinshi shakes his head. "It is a shame she is gone."

"Maomao is not gone, though?"

"My wife." Jinshi purses his lips. He had mentioned it perhaps once or twice, but it had never been more than that. It is not the madam of the house this time, it is his wife. He misses his wife. You, his beloved who had been betrothed to him. He misses you. You were his wife, not his betrothed. He had seen you in red twice now, that was surely confirmation. Even if you were to forget, he fears that he could not. You are his wife, that much is clear. "That is enough for the night. Thank you."

Diu nods, taking the tray out and closing the door with his foot, leaving Jinshi alone with his thoughts.

It is scary— how much Diu resembles you.

Perhaps your ghost is really haunting him through his aide.

秋

"Maomao." Jinshi hisses.

"Yes, Master Jinshi?" The girl turns to look at him.

"Where did you find Diu? He seems as though he yields from an elite family, yet there are no records of him anywhere." Jinshi raises a brow. "He is far too trained in arithmetic to be from a middle-class family as well."

"Oh, his family records were burned." Maomao shrugs. "He helped me once when I was about to be scammed by a merchant, so I decided to pay him back by employing him. He is good, is he not?"

"He is, but it is highly suspicious." Jinshi grumbles. "Who is his wife?"

"I have never met her."

Jinshi blinks. "You know nothing about him other than that he is good at math and has a wife, and you hired him?"

"Master Jinshi, he is not good at just math." Maomao argues. "She—"

"She?"

"I mean," Maomao sighs. "He is good at arranging the interior of the residence, is he not? He is highly trained in both what the women wield and what the men do. I hired him because he was capable in such areas. Are you doubting my loyalty? I value my head, you know? Diu is a great servant."

"That cannot be refuted, but—"

"I heard my name." Diu flicks Maomao's forehead. "And heard myself get misgendered. I am a man, Maomao. Must you hurt my pride further? I am already a eunuch. My poor wife will never get to experience penetrative pleasure from me because of the profession I have taken."

"Do you have children?" Jinshi raises a brow.

"No, master." Diu shakes his head. "My wife and I are perfectly content with no children. After all, I married into my wife's family."

"Oh, so you yield from nothing?" Jinshi interrogates, leaning onto his palm as he stares the man down.

"Yes." Diu nods. "I yield from nothing. Apart from my wife, I am nothing."

"Suspicious."

"Master." Maomao sighs.

Jinshi holds a hand up to signal for her to stop speaking. "Are you sure you do not yield from money?"

"I do not." Diu nods.

"Then why did Maomao call you a she?"

"Perhaps because I am pretty as one?" Diu winks at Jinshi, blowing a kiss.

Maomao hunches over in laughter as Jinshi fans his face.

"Fair point."

"You are gorgeous too, master." Diu hums. "Pretty like the lilies in the pond... dazzling like the stars in the sky. Surely, if you were a woman, the men would flock to your like bees to a flower."

Jinshi takes a moment to recover, holding his hand up. "The same would go to you, Diu."

"They already do." Diu hums. "I have submitted the report for the season."

"That is good." Jinshi sighs. "Maomao, do not hire random people from the street next time. I am starting to believe you only hired Diu because he is attractive."

"Attractive people need an attractive servants." Maomao shrugs.

Jinshi can't argue with that one.

"Or, perhaps similar people tend to flock to one another." Diu hums, picking up the flower pot with ease.

"Or haunt each other." Maomao mumbles, nodding as the two of them leave the room with the flowers.

It does not take two people to arrange flowers.

Yet, Jinshi pays attention to Maomao's words.

Haunt. Similar people haunt each other.

Maybe that is why he sees you in Diu.

冬

Jinshi finishes the affairs for the day, groaning and rolling his shoulders back as he returns to your office, expecting the rest of his papers to still be there. Instead, he finds Maomao knocked out on the tea table, a finished stack of paper next to her, completed and only left behind for him to sign and seal. He takes the papers, reading through the contents, writing eerily similar. You are not here, yet the writing mirrors yours perfectly. It is your writing down to the bone. It is the same writing that he had read in your reports and invoices for the residence's monthly fees. Furthermore, it was not Maomao's handwriting.

Something is wrong.

The writing is yours. You are present in the mansion. You had danced on the walls, haunted his life, brewed him tea, and done so many things to him. It was not your ghost. You were there to haunt him. It infuriates him to no end, but you had to have a hand in the residence to be able to do so. You may not be there physically, but surely someone would have been sent to do the dirty work for you. There seems to be someone new doing the dirty work for him, and who else than his new aide? Perhaps this was some twisted divine punishment in the worst way. Perhaps he would not see the end of the world as he knows it, and you would crawl out of your grave to wrap your fingers around his ankle and drag him to hell with you.

Or perhaps Diu was out for revenge on your behalf.

"Hm?" Maomao wakes up first, jumping in her skin when he stares into her eyes harshly.

There are three people in the residence allowed to write reports.

"Who is Diu."

It is not a question. A command. It is a command.

Maomao stares into Jinshi's eyes, sighing, clicking her tongue in disdain.

"I shall rid of him."

"No. Who is he. Answer." Jinshi curses out. "You brought him in. Who is he."

"I owed him a debt so I hired him." Maomao speaks. "It is that simple."

"Who is he."

"Someone you lost."

"Master!" A maid calls. "Come out to the entrance! There is a maid claiming she knows the madam's whereabouts!"

Jinshi glares at Maomao, pointing down to make sure she stays put.

Maomao watches Jinshi rush out, and she sighs, taking the ointment from her pocket. Now to find you. No way in hell she was listening to him in this situation.

Jinshi meets the maid, and he sees through her immediately. A ploy. This is a ploy. This is some cruel set up by fate who wishes for him to be miserable, and the maid did not know where you were at all. Maomao did. Maomao probably knew exactly where you were, and she had probably known for a while now. He was foolish not to realize it, but he knows it now. He is no longer mad, simply exhausted. He misses you. How he wishes you would just appear out of nowhere. That would fix him.

Jinshi looks up when he hears something above.

Something snaps.

冬

Your lips quirk up from the roof, humming as your voice returns to normal and Maomao wipes the makeup off your face. Your brows are less bushy and your lips turn more delicate. Your lashes remain the same, and you thread your fingers through your hair, smiling as Maomao stares down at the random woman. Talk about timing.

You're sure Jinshi is somewhat aware by now.

You stand up, the tiles clattering under your feet, and you laugh as you stretch your arms above your head, catching the way the woman at the gate pales in horror at the sight of you on the roof. Maomao sits behind you, same wind in her hair, leaning on her palm as you look down at Jinshi with a brow raised, Diu's clothes still on your body. Jinshi's eyes widen as he yells for you, leaving the other woman.

"With that, your debt is paid." You smile at Maomao. "I'll see you around, Maomao."

Maomao watches as you jump over the wall to the residence and Jinshi chase after you.

You sprint through the streets, Jinshi hot on your tail as you weave through the crowds swiftly, leaving Jinshi no chance to catch up to you. You really did think dressing as a man was fun, however much of a shame it was that Jinshi found out that you were the same eunuch hitting on everyone in the residence. You wonder if he'll catch you. At some point, you manage to ditch the outer coat to your shirt, only pants left and the wrap around your chest, throwing the coat at Jinshi to stop him as you rush into the forest.

It does not stop him, and when you dive into the water to get to the cave, a hand wraps around your ankle, pulling you to the surface with it as you kick to be freed. The hand lets go, but not before grabbing your face with a second hand, lips pressed to yours, the two of you float out of the water as Jinshi holds onto your face, legs kicking to keep himself afloat. His grip on your face is solid, no strength spared as he keeps you in place.

"Are you stupid?"

"Me? Stupid?!" You scoff, hands gripping his wrist to try to pull him off. "You're the one who said you would marry no one but Maomao! I simply left because you left me behind!"

"I went back for you!"

"How the hell was I supposed to know that?!" You scream, thrashing against his grip as it tightens, your nails digging into his wrist as he remains unbothered. "You've left me behind so many times! You left me during tea with the fucking emperor so you could save Maomao you nitwit!"

"I needed to save her! You would have done the same! You gave me the army seal!"

"But I would not have neglected you in the outer walls of the palace!" You shriek, finally breaking from his grasp as you dive underwater to swim away.

Jinshi follows after you, hand wrapping around your ankle to pull you to him, hands finding your waist as he pulls you with him to the cave, holding you down on the ground as water drips from his hair onto your face, his vision blurry from something he doesn't know anymore. You make him feel things. The dam holding back all of his emotions for you shatter as he pants, mouth open and chest heaving as he cries, hot tears splattering onto your face, his head hung as you resort to your fate, annoyance all over your face as you wait for him to cry it out.

"Jinshi. You love Maomao. We both know—"

"I don't." He whimpers. "I don't. I don't love her."

"Jinshi—"

somewhere in his subconscious, a rope snags.

"I love you." Jinshi whimpers, tears hot and warm on your cheeks now, dark eyes murky and cloudy, desperation bleeding past his fingers onto your skin as his grip on your tightens, a sob breaking past his lips, almost as if he had been in the same boat as you, the two of you both needing to break in order to be fixed. You had jumped off first, leaving Jinshi on his own as he had to figure out what he needed to do to get you back. You had floated off, lips curled into a peaceful smile and your eyes full of light, only to leave him behind. "I love you." Jinshi repeats again, voice cracking. Deep down, he is still that same child that held hands with you. Both of you were born and bred in order to grow quickly, not spared by the rapids of the palace as you both grew and grew and grew until you were perfect on the outside and hollow on the inside. "I love you." He sobs. "I have loved you for longer than I have been conscious. I did not pick to love Maomao because she had been perfect for me. I had picked her because she had been so full of life and full compared to the both of us. I can't love the same way everyone else does. I have given up my right as emperor, do you not know?! Do you know why you had to treat my wound when Maomao was gone?! I gave up the title! I cannot offer you what you were born and raised for. You deserve—"

You slap him, breathing heavy as the sound echoes through the cave.

"I deserve far more than you can give me." You speak, voice oddly even. "I deserve the world, but there is no point taking someone else's world when all I have ever been raised to know as my world is you. You should have spoken up and done something to communicate. I deserve the title of empress only because I was raised to become one. Beneath the title, all I deserved was for my childhood friend and the anchor of my life to stare at me just once outside of the royal court."

Jinshi whimpers, head still hung, cheek stinging from your slap.

"I was scared. We both cannot afford to have such weaknesses in the royal palace." Jinshi's voice goes quiet. "If I had revealed that I had an attachment to you, then the assassinations would have targeted you. I do not wish for you to drink more poison than you can take. I already know the previous empress made you swallow and swallow until there was nothing left. You are not a doll to me. You are something precious."

"Well you didn't choose me." You sigh. "We are getting nowhere—"

"I love you." Jinshi says it again.

"You do not—"

"I love you." Jinshi stares you in the eye, breathing slowing down and his eyes clear. "Until I stop chasing you under the sun and until the world ends, I love you. Until the heavens themselves strike me down, I will be in love with you. I do not deserve to love you right now, but it does not stop me. I will keep loving you until we return to the dirt of the ground. You may hate me for the rest of your life, despising everything that the royal name I own has put you through, but I will love you. Until I am bleeding my heart out and I become a star in the sky, I will love you. The moon is only gorgeous because it reflects the light from the sun. I am only the moon prince because the sun stands next to me in every event. Without you, I am worth nothing."

"That is a lie and you know it!"

"It is not!" Jinshi yells, lips pressing to yours to shut you up, even when you thrash against him, he holds you down, want and passion rippling through his lips to yours, and even when you accept his kiss, he does not stop, teeth gnashing against yours in something akin to a burning passion. He loves you. You are the sun to his moon, the light that he reflects in his day to day. He may have despised you, but the want that bled through his body at the sight of you was not something he could have ignored either. He loves you. He loves you until he returns to the dust of the world and both of you are lost to history. He loves you until the world caves in on itself and the royal family collapses.

When he finally pulls away, he notices the tears in your eyes and rolling down your cheeks.

"I love you." He whispers.

"Your mother was right." You whimper, voice frail and broken as you cry. "I am just a girl. I did not deserve the fate of the universe to rest on my back. I did not deserve for you to neglect me only to cry to me about loving me all alone. I do not deserve this, Jinshi."

"You are just a girl. I am just a boy." He whispers. "Neither of us deserved what we went through. I have never been in the right when it came to treating you. I will spend eternity trying to win you back after losing you. It will be my divine punishment, and the two of us may enter the afterlife, but I will continue to follow you. I have never been right when it has come to you, and I will spend my life regretting that."

And you cry, chest hurt from the years of pain, heart free from the years of hiding.

You are just a girl, and he is just a boy.

Neither of you deserved what you have been put through in the name of a better nation.

And as he ties his burnt rope to your frayed one to fix the gap, neither did he.

You are just a girl, and he is just a boy.

Alone in a royal palace with no real family.

You did not deserve it.

春

Jinshi brought you home.

His hand on your lower back as the two of you were drenched from head to toe, he brought you back. Maomao wiped your hair down as you thanked her, same dignified smile on your face as always, thanking Maomao for bringing you back. She helped you clean up, and you were returned to your room, the papers of the residence now split between you and Jinshi. Jinshi helps with what he is capable of, papers on his desk split with yours as you help him sort through the affairs of the residence. You are much more well-versed in it than he is.

"Beloved." Jinshi groans. "I need a drink."

You snort, sliding a paper to the side. "Ask Maomao for a drink. I need to make a round in the residence. The new blankets are coming today."

"When will we be wed? We must celebrate your return."

"I find no reason to if I never left." You hum. "You are still yet to propose to me. Not to mention how Maomao still has the hairpin you have given her."

"She does not." Jinshi raises a brow. "She traded it for wen at the pawn store when we went to the streets to get coins."

You raise a brow incredulously.

"You can ask her." Jinshi goes back to whining, Gaoshun sighing.

"Madam." Maomao knocks at the door. "Do you have time?"

You nod, closing the door behind you, and one of the maids hands you something with a bow and runs off when you accept it. It is a treat. Your lips quirk up as you unwrap it, handing Maomao one as you press the other one to your lips. The two of you chew quietly, and you stare at the pond. The red is all gone. You're not sure how Jinshi did it, but he had gotten rid of the blood you stained in it three winters prior. It had been gone for a while now. Yet, you do not say much, chewing on the peanut treat, tossing some at the ducks in the garden as you squat down.

"When is your wedding?"

"There is no need for one." You mumble. "Jinshi may not remember it, but we had been wed already."

Maomao blinks. "You were?"

"It was a simple ceremony. I had no family, so the empress had the two of us wed in secret before her death." You hum. "They dressed me up in red and proceeded with customs, but we continued to refer to each other as betrothed simply because it would be been troublesome for us to be married with no children."

"I see." Maomao mumbles. "Does he remember?"

"I do not believe so—"

You jump in your skin when Jinshi brushes his fingers over the nape of your neck.

"How could I not?" He pouts. "Though, you deserve a bigger wedding. It is the least I should do after putting you through so much."

You grimace at him. "Perhaps we should start from the beginning. Best of luck sending a proposal letter to my nonexistent family, Jinshi."

"No, we should pick up from the wedding." He frowns. "The bed. We never shared a bed."

"Because the empress passed away that same night so no one was there to watch us to rest together." You roll your eyes. "Treat?"

He takes one, humming. "I would prefer to host the wedding again."

You shrug. "The one to plan shall be you, despite the traditional way to go about it. It is not like I can bed you, anyway."

Maomao blinks slowly, cogs turning in her head. You watch, lips curled into a smile when it clicks for her.

"He's a eunuch." She pauses. "Which is why they did not make him bed you."

"Bingo!" You grin. "The second prince officially has one spouse. Master Jinshi has none."

"...then why do the maids here refer to him as master?"

"We force them to be tight-lipped." Jinshi hums. "Anyone who lets a word slip is executed. You live longer when you are tight lipped in this residence."

"I kill at least three maids a year." You hum. "You should watch. I line them up and shoot arrows at them."

Maomao blinks at you in concern. She supposes it is adequate since revealing Jinshi's true name would be like selling him out, but the idea of you wielding a bow... She pauses. No. You've cut a man's head off clean before. It is not out of character. It is simply out of character for the persona you display in front of the royal palace. Huh. Amusing. The contradiction of your quiet personality and the reality of your abilities. Perhaps you had been groomed in such a way to prevent your turning on the late empress.

"You are strange."

"Yes." You smile. "Very strange."

"You know what is strange? The fact that you are not my wife yet." Jinshi sighs dramatically.

You snort.

"Shall we get married in fall? When the harvest is most bountiful?"

"Perhaps." You yawn. "Though, you are to prepare everything."

"Except the dress?" Jinshi pauses. "No. It would be best if I pick the dress. I would simply—"

You smack him in the back of his head. "Bad. Leave the dress and decorations to me. You will simply plan the day and time."

"Yes, beloved." He pouts.

In the distance, a maid waves her hand, and you nod at Jinshi heading off.

Maomao's gaze lingers on you, only speaking up when you are out of earshot.

"Perhaps a new hairpin for her would be good as well."

"Well obviously." He pouts. "Perhaps you know what gem she would prefer?"

"Perhaps out of jade." She turns to look at Jinshi. "And hand carved."

Jinshi spits out blood.

Alright. For you.

Jinshi finishes the hairpin surprisingly fast, going home with ash on his face more often than he liked, but the hairpin is finished, jade shiny under the sun, pearls fastened with red silk, perfect for you to wear. It weighs light in his hand, but the metal is precious. So, he waits for a nice spring day, the sky clear and blue, sun in the sky, and he calls you out for tea.

This time, it would be his turn to chase after you, and he was determined to get you back.

After all, by the stars and the moon, by your birthdays and luck, you were destined.

And even if you were just a girl and he was just a boy, at least he was your boy.

If you would let him, of course.

After all, his rope is fastened to yours forever now.

[alice-kanzaki]

yapping abt nonmc

Non-MC reader fanfics are always written by authors who know exactly how to hurt a person. The pain is so intense and so well-crafted that, dear God, sometimes I find myself rereading the same paragraph over and over again. And after a while, I start to see myself as that woman—waiting to be loved but never receiving it in return.

Imagine loving someone. Looking at them with the most fragile, the most human part of your heart. When you hear their voice, everything inside you comes to a halt, and your entire existence shifts toward them. But they… they don’t even notice you. Or if they do, their recognition is not with the powerful grasp of love, but with the light touch of mere acknowledgment.

To you, they are a star, the very center of the universe. But to them, you are just another speck of light in the sky. If you were to disappear, they wouldn’t feel your absence. You turn back, realizing your hands are empty, crushed under the weight of your love. And they? They continue revolving around another world, another sun.

You are a meteor, trying to rise and shine, but unable to enter their orbit—shattered by the gravity of a planet that was never meant to hold you. You dissolve into dust, fading into silence. And they move on, as if nothing ever happened.

This plays out differently for each character, but the ending remains the same.

In Zayne’s case, you are either his fiancée or his wife. He is always cold and distant. His words are measured, his presence heavy yet quiet. Even if storms rage behind his eyes, his face remains unreadable. He has always been this way, and you have accepted it.

But then, he smiles—at her.

That smile is like spring breaking through the ice, subtle, warm, and gentle. As if, for just a moment, the layers of frost within him have melted. And in that moment, you realize he was never truly like this—not for everyone. He is not just a distant man; he is only distant toward you.

And that’s when it sinks in. A weight settles inside you, stealing your breath for just a second. Because you have seen it now—he can be affectionate, he can be warm, he can smile. But that smile was never meant for you.

You are likely Sylus’s assistant, though in rare cases, you might be his wife. Sylus has always been indifferent—to everyone. To you. You walked in his shadow on the battlefield, threw yourself in front of bullets for him, but to him, it was merely necessity. A duty. Your presence was nothing more than part of the mission. Until she came along.

With her arrival, Sylus changed. His face softened when he looked at her, the sharpness in his voice faded. He made sacrifices for her, and when he spoke to her, the rigidness in his posture eased. Sylus was no longer the man you knew. Everyone questioned if he was still the same person, but you already knew the truth.

He hadn’t changed. He had simply never been yours.

With Xavier and Rafael, the pattern is almost identical. You are nothing more than a companion who has traveled through centuries with them, defying time itself.

As time weaves its path, they always take the lead—making decisions, guiding, fighting. And you? You are merely a shadow beside them. A witness. While they sacrificed their homelands for love, you were the one who heard the cries of the people they left behind. On one side was their passionate devotion, and on the other, your quiet grief.

For them, time had stopped. But for you, the world kept turning, though it no longer resembled the place you once knew.

And then there’s Caleb.

Caleb was always by MC’s side. He was her protector, her shield, her most trusted person. And you were there too. You grew up in the same house, sat at the same dinner table, shared the same stories. But his eyes always sought only MC.

Through the years, you watched how he looked at her. How he stepped forward at the slightest sign of danger, how every word he spoke to her carried an unshakable certainty. You bore witness to his protection, his sacrifices, his unwavering love—but never once was any of it directed at you.

You were there too. You lived those same moments. But you were never the center of his world.

Some see her as a mistress, a backup, an extra wedged between the main character and the LI. As if she were a mere footnote in someone else’s story, placed there by mistake. But she’s not.

She is not just someone trying to insert herself where she doesn’t belong. She was there from the very beginning. She walked the same path, fought the same battles, gazed at the same sky. She was never a stranger lingering on the edges of the story—she was a part of it.

The difference is that her name was never written into the main plot. Her words never echoed, her presence was never at the center. And yet, she was never just a replacement. Because love isn’t a competition, it isn’t a role to be filled, it isn’t about winners and losers.

She simply loved. With everything she had, without expecting anything in return. Her eyes were always on him, but his eyes were never on her.

[alice-kanzaki]

Sometimes, I think of such sorrowful scenarios involving Caleb, MC, and non!MC that it truly aches inside. Non!MC holds a very special place in my heart — her finding a good ending, being happy, being seen and valued the way she deserves has always been incredibly important to me. With other love interests, seeing that happen brings a deep sense of satisfaction. But when it comes to Caleb… everything changes. It feels like non!MC could never have a truly happy life with him, as if it just isn’t written in her fate.

Caleb is different from the other characters. In the original timeline, he grows up with MC — they share their childhood, their pain, their fight for survival. His world, without him even realizing, begins to shape around her. There are promises he’s made — to never be with anyone else, to always protect her. He’s not obsessive, maybe, but he has a deeply ingrained sense of possession and protection. And over time, that becomes a habit. And that habit hardens into something like destiny.

Sometimes I picture this one scene in my head: MC, Caleb, and non!MC are children, used as test subjects in a lab. Then one day, Josephine appears and saves them. Everything changes. Time moves forward. Their lives settle into something resembling normalcy — maybe — but Caleb doesn’t change. He never leaves MC’s side. He’s like a shield, a shadow, always there for her. But to non!MC… he’s wary. There’s always a distance between them. As emotionally closed off as he is to Josephine, he remains to her as well.

No matter how much non!MC tries, no matter how much she suffers, she never sees the same softness in Caleb’s eyes. Never the same smile. Because his love for MC isn’t just habit — she is his center. Like when they were kids and he worked part-time so MC could have more toys. Like when he always played the knight who saved her in every make-believe game. Like how every ounce of tenderness he has is reserved only for MC.

Non!MC looks at Caleb the way Caleb looks at MC.

With the same patience, the same depth.

Every time he turns his head, her eyes never leave him, always holding a little more longing.

Not for a smile, maybe — but for a scrap of attention, a drop of affection.

And she never gets it.

Because Caleb is always turned toward someone else.

Non!MC loves him even when she’s not supposed to.

She understands him without even trying.

She’s learned to be content with just being near him.

Because while Caleb is the center of her world,

She is just a shadow living in the outskirts of his.

And perhaps the most painful thing of all is this:

Even though her love is never reflected,

Even though he doesn’t look at her the same way,

Still, she looks at him

Just like he looks at MC.

Quietly. Patiently. Desperately.

Non!MC sees all of this.

And sometimes the thing that hurts most isn’t being unloved — it’s being unconsidered.

It’s not even being compared, because in Caleb’s eyes, there’s no need for a comparison.

And that’s why writing a happy ending for non!MC in a story where Caleb exists becomes so difficult.

Because sometimes, healing begins with accepting the truth — no matter how bitter.

And some people are simply written to be side characters in someone else’s story.

And still… maybe one day.

(I need a fic like that please please please)

[alice-kanzaki]

LaDs x non!mc , angst

non!mc idea where in every universe, in every timeline, you’re only there to watch one of the Lis fall in love with MC. you, as their closest companion, stuck by their side since the dawn of time, bare witness of a love story never for you.

and now we’re in the current timeline and you watch it happen all over again.

You've grown to watch silently, in the background. In the shadow of MC. Her beauty, her confidence, her kindness.

You've seen in all before, the way they look at her, love her, yearn for her; sucked into her gravity. And like your love for the Lis, you're pulled into too, forever following, watching, but never experiencing. 

You've mastered silent devotion, a writhing, numbing ache that you can never seem to rid. Heavy on the chest, suffocating to the heart. Since you couldn't  love them loudly like they do with MC, yearn them in the same way they yearn for her; you sit back and grow hollow, more empty. 

Even when tragedy strikes, perhaps a fatal injury by a wanderer, a horrible collision with a car, a terrible drowning, a freak accident; maybe pure exhaustion. You're left to revel in your own patheticness, of loving someone untouchable. 

In many ways, you're just like them.

Because, even in your final breath,  you think of them, and how much you love them despite all it all. 

Maybe the gods pity you, lord knows you've done enough yourself. Now reincarnated to a new world, our world. where Linkon is just some made up place in a game everyone’s been raving about on twitter. where you’re happy; whole; complete. 

Where you hold no memory of your past life. No memory of them. 

In your new life, as you play Love and Deep Space and design your MC the way you’d think the LIs would love. They’re looking at you. Really look at you, maybe for the first time since the duration of your friendship? relationship?

because after your death, something unspeakable till this day. they’ve finally noticed your absence. the silence. 

Unable to fill the hole you left, not with work, not with time, not with love. 

so when their phone lights up, months after your death, and they see you. Alive, and look it too. much more alive than they've ever seen you. Your face is so bright, almost glowing. and you bar a smile they have never seen. or at least, they don’t remember.

you’re alive and you’re happy.

Soon, they find the pattern of your appearance, when they’re phone lights up and your beaming face appears. and so they wait, daily, to see you again.

when you talk to ‘them’ through your phone, about your life, your troubles, your joys. they just sit and listen, listen to all you have to say.

Because their version of you isn't here anymore. They can’t hear your voice, see your face, feel your touch.

This time, they'll love you right, like how they should have all along. Pulled into the gravity that is, you. So they cling to you, through their  phone. 

Close enough to hear you, to see you, but never touch you.

have fun

[alice-kanzaki]

this was a request from a kind anon.

summary: angst with comfort, reader and lads men having a misunderstanding because reader is overthinking that they’re cheating on her with the mc since they always spend time with the mc and spending less time with the reader.

xavier ver. | zayne ver. | sylus ver. | caleb ver.

rafayel x reader | angst/comfort

You weren't proud of the thoughts you were having.

Not when Rafayel was as breathtaking as ever, standing in the distant glow of the garden lanterns, talking to her again. MC. His voice was low, that velvet-like voice that used to make your chest flutter. Now, it curled in your stomach with unease.

He was smiling. Not the lazy, teasing one he gave everyone. But something softer. Something rare. Something that, lately, he'd stopped giving you.

You watched from a distance, the bitter ache of overthinking clawing up your spine like ivy. They stood close, too close. Her hand brushed his sleeve. He didn't pull away.

You turned away before you could see more.

-

The silence in your room was suffocating when you returned. Rafayel hadn't noticed you watching. He rarely noticed, these days.

The messages had slowed. The way he'd linger after kissing your cheek had vanished. His excuses, though charming and gilded with half-truths, always ended with the same conclusion: ''I have things to handle with MC.''

You used to trust him implicitly. But love could be fragile. Especially when the person you loved was a master of masks.

You sat on the edge of the bed and opened your message thread with him. It felt empty despite all the hearts and winks that littered it.

Your fingers hovered over the keyboard.

Can we talk tonight? Please. I need to clear my head.

You sent it. Watched the little ''read'' notification blink.

And waited.

Five minutes.

Ten.

You stared at his message, bile rising in your throat.

Then finally.

Of course, cutie. I'll come after I finish with MC. It won't take long.

Of course it was MC again.

-

It was nearly midnight when Rafayel arrived.

''Hey,'' he said softly, stepping inside like the room wasn't filled with every unspoken word you'd been swallowing for days. ''You look like a storm's been living in you.''

You folded your arms, trying not to meet his eyes. ''Maybe because there has.'

He tilted his head, the teasing edge in his voice momentarily gone. ''Tell me:''

You looked at him then. Really looked. He was still beautiful in that untouchable, almost celestial way. Still the man who had stolen your heart with laughter and warmth and frustrating riddles.

And yet, right now, he felt like a stranger standing in the doorway of your grief.

''You've been spending all your time with her,'' you said. ''MC.''

Rafayel blinked. The silence dragged.

''I have responsibilities_''

''I know that,'' you snapped. ''What I don't know is wether those responsibilities come with…feelings.''

He stared, and for a terrifying second, he didn't say anything at all.

So you pushed, voice cracking. ''Are you cheating on me with her?''

The air in h´the room changed. It was like the very space between you shattered.

Rafayel didn't move. Didn't blink.

Then he laughed. Softly, bitterly.

''Oh, that's what you think of me?''

You flinched. ''I didn't want to. But you're always with her. You talk about her like she's this bright star you can't help but orbit. You disappear on me, lie about where you're going sometimes. And when you are here, it's like your heart isn't.''

His expression was unreadable. ''So you've decided the only explanation is betrayal?''

''I don't know what to think anymore!'' you cried. ''Because you won't let me in. You always hide behind jokes or silence or some metaphor I can't unravel…''

Something flickered behind his eyes. Hurt. Guilt. Anger.

''Do you have any idea how many times I've wanted to tell you the truth?'' he asked, stepping closer. ''But I don't, because every time I look at you, I see softness. Warmth. A place untouched by all the filth I deal with. And I tell myself, if I keep my shadows from you, maybe I can keep you clean.''

''That's not your choice,'' you whispered. ''I didn't fall in love with a perfect man. I fell in love with you. The complicated, broken, reckless version.''

Rafayel looked down at the floor, jaw clenched.

''You think I'm in love with her?'' he asked quietly. ''Is that really what your heart is telling you?''

You hesitated.

''I think…you might be starting to wonder if you chose wrong. That maybe she's more compatible. That she's stronger, easier to share the weight with. You don't have to protect her like you protect me.''

His voice dropped. ''Don't do that. Don't turn your fears into my truth.''

''Then tell me the truth!'' you yelled, fists clenched. ''Because if you keep shutting me out, you'll lose me anyway.''

He looked at you then. Really looked. And what you saw there stole the breath from your lungs.

''Do you think you're easy to love, cutie?'' he asked, voice low.

You froze. ''What?''

He stepped closer, his voice like thunder muffled behind silk.

''Because I do. And that terrifies me.''

Your heart skipped. ''You're…scared of loving me?''

''I've never had anything I was afraid to lose until you,'' he said. ''and I don't know how to be with someone who sees the real me and stays. So I pull away before you can leave me like everyone else.''

Your breath caught in your throat.

''All that time with MC?'' he continued. ''Yes, I've been with her. Missions. Strategy. Nightmares that won't let her sleep. I help her the way I can. But it's not love, not the way you think. She's a mirror to a life I survived.''

''And me?'' you asked.

''You're a window,'' he said. ''To a life I want. And that scares me more than anything.''

Tears blurred your vision.

''You idiot,'' you whispered. ''You beautiful, infuriating idiot.''

And then you were moving- Closing the space between you, fists against his chest as the tears finally came.

''You don't get to decide you're unlovable,'' you cried. ''You don't get to shut me out just because you're scared. I'm scared too.''

His arms came around you like gravity. ''I know. I'm sorry.''

''I thought I was losing you.''

''You never were,'' he whispered. ''But I'll admit I've been making it feel that way.''

You buried your face in his shoulder, inhaling the scent of rain and regret.

''Please don't do that again,'' you said.

He held you tighter. ''I won't. No more masks. No more half-truths.''

You both stood there for a long time, wrapped in silence, until he finally pulled back enough to cup your face.

''You are not second place,'' he said. ''You never have been.''

You nodded, and something in you, something tight and aching, finally began to ease.

''Then let's try again,'' you said. ''But this time…together.''

Rafayel smiled, tired but genuine.

''Together,'' he echoed.

And for the first time in weeks, you believed him.

[alice-kanzaki]

­this was a request from a kind anon.

summary: angst with comfort, reader and lads men having a misunderstanding because reader is overthinking that they’re cheating on her with the mc since they always spend time with the mc and spending less time with the reader.

rafayel ver. | zayne ver. | sylus ver. | caleb ver.

xavier x reader | angst/comfort

The city outside buzzed with neon, flickering in rhythmic patterns against your windowpane. But inside, your apartment was too quiet. An oppressive sort of silence that crept into your bones and stayed there.

You stared at your phone. Again.

Nothing.

Not a single message from Xavier. Not today, not last night. Not since two days ago, when he said he had ''missions with MC.''

Again.

Your fingers curled around the device like it could ground you, but the storm inside your chest only worsened.

You weren't the jealous type. At least, you never thought you were. But lately, your thoughts had become poisoned by doubt, each unanswered text and broken plan feeling like another crack in your already fragile peace.

You remembered when things were different. When Xavier's voice was the first thing you heard in the morning. When he'd show up at your door, hair tousled from wind or battle, and kiss your forehead like it was the only place he belonged.

Now, he was always with her. With MC.

It wasn't just about the time. It was the way he talked about her. His partner on missions, someone who ''gets it'' someone he ''clicks with''. Someone who wasn't you.

And the worst part?

You understood. MC was exceptional. Smart, brave, capable. She challenged Xavier in ways maybe you couldn't. They had chemistry in battle, a synchronicity you never quite shared. And deep down, your mind whispered cruel things. That he might have realized she was the one for him.

And you? You were just…a detour.

The thought made your stomach twist. The ache swelled in your chest, and before you knew it, you were typing.

Hey, are you free later? Can we talk?

You stared at the message for a long while before pressing send.

The reply didn't come until dusk.

Of course. On my way now.

He arrived barely twenty minutes later, dressed in that familiar light jacket, blond hair slightly damp from the rain. His eyes softened when he saw you, but you didn't miss the tension beneath the calm exterior. He always saw too much.

''You okay?'' he asked, stepping inside.

You nodded. Then shook your head. ''Not really.''

His gaze narrowed, concern flashing across his face. ''What's wrong?''

You took a breath, trying to steady the tremor in your voice.

''Are you…seeing her?''

His brows furrowed. ''What?''

''MC,'' you said, biting your lower lip. ''Are you cheating on me with her?''

The words sounded awful out loud. Raw and brittle. But there was no taking them back now.

Silence.

He stared at you like you'd just slapped him. His expression was unreadable, but the hurt in his eyes was unmistakable.

''No,'' he said, voice low and deliberate. ''I'm not.''

You looked away, swallowing hard. ''You're always with her. You spend more time with her than with me. You cancel plans, go silent for days. I get it. Missions come first. But it feels like I'm always second.''

His jaw tightened. ''You think I'm cheating on you because I'm doing my job?''

You flinched. ''It's not just that. It's how you talk about her. Like she's… important. Like she gets you in a way I don't.''

The silence after that was the kind that threatened to break both of you.

He took a step closer, and something in his voice cracked. ''She's my mission partner. That's it.''

''Is it?'' you whispered, eyes shimmering. ''Because it feels like I'm just…here. Like you don't even see me anymore.''

Xavier exhaled, long and slow, before sitting down on the couch.

''I didn't know you felt this way,'' he said, his voice quieter now. ''Why didn't you tell me sooner?''

''I didn't want to seem clingy,'' you admitted. ''I didn't want to be that person. But it started eating at me, and every time I tried to bring it up, you were already gone again.''

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, hands clasped.

''I didn't mean to make you feel this way,'' he said. ''But I won't lie. I've been…avoiding things. Not you. Just everything else. The pressure. The fear. The part of me that knows I can lose you if I screw this up.''

Your eyes widened. ''What?''

He looked up at you, and the raw vulnerability in his eyes hit you like a wave.

''You think I'm pulling away because I don't care,'' he said. ''But the truth is, I've been terrified. I've seen too many people I care about get hurt. MC…she's been through hell. Working with her remind me what's at stake. I thought…maybe if I kept my distance a little, I could protect you from all of that.''

Your chest ached at his words. ''So you were pushing me away to protect me?''

He gave a short bitter laugh. ''Yeah. Stupid, right?''

''No,'' you whispered. ''Just…heartbreaking.''

You moved to sit beside him, slowly, cautiously. He didn't move away.

''I miss you,'' you said softly. ''Not just physically. I miss us.''

His eyes closed, lashes trembling.

''I miss you too,'' he murmured. ''More than you know.''

The silence that followed was heavy. But it felt different now. Like something had shifted.

When he spoke again, it was with a gentleness that made your throat tighten.

''I never cheated on you. I never even thought about it. You are the person I come home to in my mind. Even when I'm not physically here. But I should've shown you more. I should've been here with you.''

You nodded, tears slipping silently down your cheeks. 'I just wanted to be part of your world. Not shut out of it.''

''I'll do better,'' he promised, reaching for your hand. ''No more shutting you out. You deserve all of me. Not just the pieces I think are safe.''

You held his hand tightly, feeling the warmth of his skin against yours, the pulse of something real and fragile between you.

''Just don't go quiet on me,'' you said, voice shaking. ''Even if it's hard. I'd rather fight with you than wonder if I'm losing you.''

He smiled faintly, brushing a thumb against your cheek. ''Then let's fight together. For us.''

And in that moment, under the soft hum of rain and the city's distant glow, the space between you finally began to close.

[alice-kanzaki]

Diasomnia in cookie run :0 !!!

I just think they're neat :))

poll under cut

fun fact: I was brainstorming what sebek would be and I finaly chose sour strips, but I forgot to check if that was a cookie so I did all the lineart before searching it up... SOUR BELT COOKIE EXITS ALR fahgopabew;fdsjf noooooo.... anyways its ok we can pretend it doesn't T-T

also i gave him the autism creature eyes for... obvious reasons LOL

[alice-kanzaki]

Yo! Hello its me again! Could i please request like a reverse isekai where the kny characters end up in reader's house? And maybe she is like Mad rich but like.. Not a spoiled brat she likes to do charity and make money for herself and maybe she is living with her cousins, she is smark but can be stupid (if you know what i mean) i don't know, you can do whatever you want, (there is not enough reverse isekai fanfictions😭), anyhow, hope you have a good day and you didn't get sick of my (a lot) requests😁🫶🏻👋🏻

Hashira getting reverse isekai’d

Your favourite hashira suddenly appeared inside your home! How will they react to your home and the modern world?

Pairing: Sanemi, Kyojuro, Giyu x gn!reader

Sanemi Shinazugawa

He will not adjust to this change quietly— he is ready to destroy and slice every single piece of tech that decides to randomly beep or talk to him. You once found Sanemi trying to get his katana out of your ceiling after throwing it with full force against your smoke detector, after it beeped to remind you to change battery. It scared the shit out of him, so he put an end to that thing. Often times when using your phone, Sanemi accidentally activates Siri. He first thought that a demon was speaking through the phone with some kind of blood demon art, then, after explaining to him what exactly Siri is and what she does, he just begins cursing her and cussing her out every time she activates on him. You once had to remind him not to grip it so tightly, or else your screen might crack.

A thing he really, really likes about your modern home though is your bathroom. The shower, the large mirror, sink, toilet… just everything about it. The first time he stepped into your shower and closed the glass door behind himself, Sanemi was first confused about the shower settings. He turned every knob that is able to be turned, both cooking himself alive and dodging the water in fear of freezing, achieving both of these things in one shower. Once he finally found the perfect temperature, it was time to test all of the products you have, and not sparingly. Shampoo, conditioner, hair masks, shower gel, body scrub and whatever else he could get his fingers on— once he got out of the shower and returned to you, his smell was almost overwhelming, but at least you know now that his har is somehow able to look even better than before.

After a long adjustment period, you sometimes catch Sanemi watching the TV. He made himself comfortable in a corner of your couch, cuddled up in heated blankets (he learned how to use the settings all by himself!) and watching one movie after another. He’s quite the binge-watcher apparently, watching one action movie after another for hours on end. At the end of such day, he’ll complain about his eyes burning up without having any idea how that happened.

“Hey, wanna join me? Blanket s’ warm and I found a movie about some weird metal things moving really, really fast and guys kicking each other’s asses— Huh? Cars? Are those these fast carriages sliding around on there?”

Kyojuro Rengoku

He is incredibly curious about every single thing and would try to understand how everything works. Kyojuro would inspect your microwave and press every button their is, watching the pizza pocket he threw into there react to the different settings and then grieving about how the once weird snacks he wanted to try turned into a piece of burnt remains. Despite being the most comfortable with the traditional meals he used to eat, Kyojuro would love to try any dish you even mentioned by name once! Since you can get your food delivered to your front door, Kyojuro can try as many different cultural dishes as he can get his hands on! Or as many as you can get delivered to tour home. Ordering food is something he always gets very excited about, like what do you mean you can order all kinds of cultural food in a matter of minutes? How do the restaurants have all the ingredients available and are always ready to serve customers? And why do you refuse to order a so-called Happy Meal for him? Isn’t it supposed to make one happy?

Another thing Kyojuro is very excited about is the gym. He accidentally stumbled upon a fitness center after returning from buying groceries, staring at the people training inside with those weird machines. The hashira spotted a couple of people build broader and stronger than him, making him realise that this may be some kind of modern training ground. He begged on his hands and knees for a membership so he can explore all these new machines and weight excursuses. Once Kyojuro got inside, he was like a child in a candyshop. He spend the whole day testing out every machine, noting his own limits and setting goals on how to get even stronger. Despite no demons terrorising your world, he still wants to keep his muscles and gain strength to offer nice pillows you can lay your head on and also have the ability to open sealed jars for you without struggling.

“Can we order sweet potato tonight? I miss eating it, and it’s my comfort dish…. Also, I believe I may have started to develop homesickness. I miss my brother the most, though… Not that I don’t like it here, I love it! I just miss my father and brother, that’s all.”

Giyu Tomioka

Staying true to his nature, Giyu would be silent and awkward in this new space. He’s scared of offending you in any way but simply taking his haori off or sitting down onto your couch since he has no idea about the manners and behaviours expected from him in this world, but at the same time doesn’t bother to ask you in order to not burden you in any way. So, he quietly followed you around the house in and inspect your furniture and decorations, sometimes curiously picking something up and inspecting its function. His favourite object so far is a rubix cube he found on your desk. You caught him turn the sides, trying to understand what the point of this thing is. Does it have something on the inside? Why are the colours all scrambled up? While watching his irritation grow because of not being able to sort the colours, you suggested that Giyu can keep it and try to solve it after giving him a small briefing on what the point of the cube is. Thanking you, he kept the rubix cube on his body to play around with it whenever he has time. He is seriously invested in it and really wants to solve it in order to prove to himself that he can solve a complex puzzle and to maybe even impress you a little.

Also, you discovered that Giyu likes noise-canceling headphones, music and e-books. You often find him cuddled up together on your sofa, his face illuminated by your Ipad in his hands. You could hear the faint sounds of soft and slow music from the headphones he was wearing. He looks incredibly invested in whatever he is reading, so you snuck up on him and glanced over his shoulder, reading a couple of lines. It wasn’t a fantasy story or a random novel like you thought, but Giyu was actually reading an article about the behaviour of cats. Adorable, you thought, so you left him be and went on with your day. The water hashira eyed your form as you left, sneakily switching tabs and returning to what he was actually reading: a fluffy romance novel. He looks over his shoulder twice, thrice, checking if you are still near before feeling comfortable enough to continue his reading in peace.

“Can I borrow your.. headphones? They’re called headphones, right? Yes, I’d like to borrow them again. I want to use them to have more silence, you are being very loud and I wanted to read something.”

💠

You never bother me with your requests! They are always so fun to write for!! Also, I hope it’s okay I kind of “simplified” your request— I hope you enjoyed this anyway. Also, I didn’t include Gyomei because I was unsure of what exactly to write for him, but I may update this tomorrow and a small scenario for him <3

Anyways, make sure to EAT, SLEEP and DRINK enough!!

Take care of yourselves <3

[alice-kanzaki]

Hello hello, I was wondering if you could please write a story (Short scenario) with the Hashiras and maybe the three upper moons. Where the reader aka their S/O had a small fight and is currently ignoring them but then she needs something from them that makes here go there like "Can you please open this for me/help me with this". I just think it would be cute to see their reaction to the reader being all flustered about having to ask them for help.

(Take your time and stay safe i luv you~) 💛❤️💛❤️

Giving your boyfriend the silent treatment…

…until you need help opening something. (Includes both Hashira and Upper Moons)

Pairing: Sanemi, Kyojuro, Gyomei, Giyu, Tengen, Kokushibo, Douma, Akaza x fem!human!reader

Sanemi Shinazugawa

Sanemi would grow incredibly frustrated when you use the silent treatment against him. He’d try to ignore you as well by crossing his arms over his chest and sit in a different room, back facing the door at all times. He can’t stop thinking about you brooding and being upset with him, wich in return, makes him even more angry! Gods, you’re infuriating sometimes.

But once you come up to him and ask him to open a new jar of jam, he’d try to look mad, even though he wasn’t.

“You sure got some nerve to ask me now.”

He tries to show you that he still is kinda pissed with you, but still loves you. Sanemi would grumble about your timing and attitude from before while wrestling with the lid. After struggling for multiple minutes and failing, he got upset again and just gave it back to you, grumbling.

“Ask someone else, damnit! Don’t annoy me.”

Kyojuro Rengoku

Arguments are the worst for him. Kyojuro will feel and look like a distraught puppy who just got denied love for the rest of his life. He understands that you need space and will provide it, but the silent treatment is really breaking his heart. Kyojuro would sometimes try to start a conversation by asking about you what you’re doing or how you’re feeling.

He will feel absolutely delighted when you talk to him again. Of course he’d open a bottle for you! Happily so!

“Give it to me, I got it!”

Kyojuro popped the lid with ease and handed the bottle back to you, giving you puppy eyes and a bright smile. You seriously can’t ignore him anymore, it’s just too sad to see him depressed…

“Oh! You’re talking to me again! I’ve missed you, my flame!”

Gyomei Himejima

Although he’s not fond of your methods of resolving conflict and considers them a little childish, Gyomei will oblige, for now.

He will give you the same treatment you’re giving him, but will still remain around your person. Gyomei’ll silently meditate or pray while you continue your antics, being just as quiet as you are. He’d ponder about arguments he could deliver to you to break your silence and resolve this issue, but before he could come up with anything, you come up to him with a jar of honey. After you ask him to open it for you, Gyomei would softly smile and take the jar.

“Of course, my pearl.”

He opened it with ease and handed it back to you, but before you could go back to whatever you were doing, Gyomei’d speak up again.

“How about we resolve our argument now? I do not want to continue to fight.”

Giyu Tomioka

Giyu would unintentionally give you the silent treatment after arguments, and you decided to give one back. After noticing the lack of conversations and the sound of your voice, he’d feel more sad and try to avoid you all together to avoid even more conflict or your silent side glances. Giyu jumps slightly when you ask him to open a jar of fermented foods. He was incredibly surprised that you’d want to talk to him.

“Mhm. Give it.”

He… struggled with opening it. He tried around for two more minutes until he managed to open it with a spoon and using 80% of his strength. He feels embarrassed for failing opening something for you.

“You’re welcome.”

Tengen Uzui

How unflashy of you to ignore him like this. Do you know how bratty you look like? Sometimes he just wants to stick out his tongue at you when you’re not looking. Tengen would sulk and complain to the other girls about you, but Hinatsuru, Makio and Suma stick to you and your petty silent treatment, but they’d stick to you and would ignore him as well. You’re all ganging up on him at this point.

But once you come back to him and ask him for help opening your favourite drink, Tengen would feign being helpful.

“Gimme that, I’ll open it for you, beautiful~”

He’d open the glass for you and then proceed to chug everything down in one go, right in front of you while making sure to stay out of your reach.

“That’s what you get for being bratty!”

(He was not allowed back into the bedroom that night)

Kokushibo

You are being very immature. Kokushibo can give you the same silent treatment you are giving him, and he will outlast you by far. He will act very nonchalant about you ignoring him and will stop attempting making conversation after two tries. Kokushibo would return to his training or meditation, or sometimes even go on long missions to punish you even more for acting this petty.

Once you come back to him and ask him to open a jar of jam for you, Kokushibo will just stare you down silently.

“…..”

He proceeded to give you the silent treatment and not open the jar for you. You were left to fend for yourself. But at somepoint, Kokushibo could not watch you struggling to open the jar by using a sharp knife in hopes to get the lid loose. He snatched the jar out of your hands and opened it with ease.

“Here. Take it. Don’t try that again, you will injure yourself.”

Douma

Your silent treatment is very entertaining to Douma. Is this your way to punish him? How funny! He will try everything to make you break your silence by annoying you. Douma will nuzzle into your neck, kiss your most sensitive spots, whine into your ear, complain about your behaviour, poke against your cheek and pinch your skin. C’mon, do something with him! Anything! Stop ignoring him! Douma just kept following you around, whining around like a child.

Finally, you he saw you struggling with opening a jar of tea herbs and offered to help.

“Need help with that, lotus?”

Douma snatched the jar out of your hand and opened in a matter of seconds, but didn’t hand it back. He wanted you to say “I love you” before he hands it back. You gave in while heavily rolling your eyes, but Douma wasn’t satisfied with that. After a back and forth, you finally satisfied him by saying “I love you my dearest, lovely Douma” in a sincere tone. In his eyes, he won your silent treatment game.

“I won! Awww, why do you look so mad? Here, take your herbs back…. No thank you? What, are you ignoring me again?! Come ooooonnnn…”

Akaza

He was hurt and slightly scared by your silent treatment. Are you planning to leave him? Akaza would understand that. He’s rough, angry, a demon, prideful, not good with expressing his thoughts… the list of his flaws go on. Your silence is making him incredibly nervous and he let his nervous energy out during training and against the walls of the infinity castle until his knuckles bleed.

Then, finally, you approach Akaza with a problem: you can’t open your jar of candies. He felt himself smile slightly at your defeated face.

“So now you need me? Hm.”

Akaza casually tried slipping the lid off, but it was stuck. He felt his pride crumble bit by bit with everytime he tried opening the lid and failed. His anger rose and he slammed the jar against the corner of the wall, shattering the top of the glas jar off. The glass fell in onto your feet.

“… There.”

💠

This was one of my favourite requests so far! Thank you so much for requesting!! I’m currently working on How the Upper Moons would react to your affection, similar to what I posted with the hashira, so I was kinda switching back and forth between this and the other fic. Somehow, when I feel stressed, I’m the most creative and productive xD

Also, I absolutely love reading all of your comments and reposts. Some made me laugh out loud in public, so thank you for that!

Anyways, make sure to EAT, SLEEP and DRINK enough!! <3

Take care of yourselves <33 I appreciate you all.

[alice-kanzaki]

Sleepy…

How the hashira act when they’re tired?

Pairing: Sanemi, Kyojuro, Gyomei, Giyu x fem!reader

(Reader has stretch marks on her thighs in Gyomei’s part)

Sanemi Shinazugawa

In the mornings…

Sanemi wakes up being grumpy and drained rather than rested from a good night’s sleep. His hair is messy and some stubble formed on his face over the night. Also, he doesn’t believe you when you say he snores in his sleep, even though you woke up from him snoring or grunting in his sleep multiple times. You sometimes even heard him mumble something about Genya and ohagi. Your name fell every now and then but you haven’t told him about that yet. He had a huge grin on his was while seemingly dreaming of you, and you didn’t want to hurt his pride even more.

Sanemi is slow in the mornings and needs you to drag him out of bed. If he has nothing to do but train today, so why can’t he just sleep until he needs to train? He’d hunch over the sink and slowly brush his teeth while having his eyes closer again. You once caught him falling asleep in that stance, snoring quietly. While Sanemi is finishing up in the bathroom at a snail’s pace, you take some time to cook up something nice for you two.

Heavy footsteps would stumble down the stairs and Sanemi would drag his heavy body over to you, leaning onto your back and nuzzling his face in your warm neck. He’d groan and squeeze your waist gently.

“You still feel so warm… ugh, I wanna go back to bed…”

In the evenings…

After showering, Sanemi doesn’t really have energy to do anything else after hunting demons all night. He can’t sleep without you though, so he’ll just lay in bed like a log and wait on you to join him. Sometimes, he’d even call out to you to hurry up and cuddle him already.

Once in bed, Sanemi’ll lay his head on your soft chest and close his eyes. His cheek is slightly squished and mouth slightly agape. He’d want you to play with his hair and run your fingers through his white locks. Sometimes, Sanemi would accidentally start drooling onto your skin or shirt, forgetting to swallow his spit. Your massage is just making him forget anything: his worries, fears, train of thought and to swallow his spit.

Of course, Sanemi would be incredibly embarrassed and deny enjoying your craved touch this much. Sometimes, he’d even roll off you and lay on his stomach, pretending that he’s perfectly fine to sleep on his own. You giggling at his flushed face doesn’t help either.

Sanemi does NOT need you to hold him so he can sleep properly and have nice dreams if you act that way!

“Scoot over, I wanna lay down. I don’t need your damn cuddles anymore. You’re just making fun of me, damnit!!”

Kyojuro Rengoku

In the mornings…

Kyojuro’s hair is incredibly messy everytime he wakes up. You can’t resist but to brush through it a couple of times while your husband slept, enjoying the moment of quiet intimacy.

His voice would be raspy and quieter in the mornings in comparison to throughout the day, his smiles smaller and sleepier, yet just as happy and real as usual. Kyojuro would be sleepy in the mornings but would start regaining his energy after having a nutritious breakfast. Usually, he’d make them himself.

Kyojuro would stand by the stove, dressed in either just his nightwear pants or a loose fitting robe. His movements are sluggish and slow, but he still never burnt himself on accident. Sometimes, you would even lean against his muscular back and complain about the tasks ahead of you while Kyojuro quietly listens and cooks breakfast.

“Mh, would you… *yawn*… mind handing me the eggs from over there?”

In the evenings…

Kyojuro still manages to muster up enough energy to keep his vibrant and loud personality, even right before bed. He’s incredibly tired and needs to recharge the whole night to have another successful day of training and slaying demons. The best way to recharge is by holding you close to his chest, letting your head rest on his soft pecks.

Slowly, Kyojuro would start to slip into a sleepier state. His eyes would be droopy and his smile more lovesick while his hand slowly brush over your features. You’re so perfect, do you know that? Sometimes, he might squeeze you a little too hard on accident. It something similar to cuteness aggression, just much more subconscious and softer.

Kyojuro would fall asleep with your imagine in mind and a sleepy smile on his face, his arms wrapped tightly around you, making sure you’re comfortable in his warm arms.

“Hm? Oh, sorry… did I hold you too tightly? Apologies, my love. I missed you the whole day and… forgive me?”

Gyomei Himejima

In the mornings…

Gyomei usually wakes up quite early to go pray, but you keep him in bed for a little longer. You get woken up by the weight on the bed shifting and mumble his name, gently grabbing his forearm and pulling him back onto the bed. He cannot help but obey your wish and lay back down with you. Gyomei is still tired when you pull his head against your chest, wrapping your arms around his broad shoulders.

Tears start falling down his cheeks and onto your shirt as you run your fingers through his messy, short hair. A small smile rested on his face.

His voice is incredibly deep and his chest vibrates against yours as he murmurs quiet prayers to finish his morning routine. Gyomei doesn’t get sleepy very often, but when he does, it’s only in your arms and by your touch.

“You’re a blessing, my pearl…”

In the evenings…

After his endurance training, slaying demons and attending an hashira meeting, even Gyomei gets tired. He would lay right beside you, resting his head on your stomach. His eyes would be closed and arms wrapped around your waist and plush thighs, rubbing gently up and down, feeling your warm skin and stretch marks.

Gyomei would place gentle kisses on your skin and savour your scent. You are absolutely beautiful to him, he doesn’t even need his eyes to see that. While you massage his scalp with your fingers, it feels like the exhaustion is finally catching up to him. With a final sigh, Gyomei finally slipped into something similar to a comatose. Once asleep, only the sound of the cries of a crow can wake him up.

“My love, may I rest with you a little longer? I still haven’t recovered from my last training session… you have a healing effect on me.”

Giyu Tomioka

In the mornings…

He is comparable to a disoriented, deflated balloon. Not that Giyu is bouncing and being happy during the day, it’s just that he’s even more depressed in the mornings. But, on the bright side, Giyu is able to handle your affections better while sleepy. Normally, he’d stiffen up and shortcircuit. But while he’s being tired, you can cup his cheeks and kiss him all over, he’ll just respond with a small whine or groan.

Giyu might become a cuddlebug when you two are in bed and have nothing to do. He’d bury his face in your neck and savour your warmth while he can. Sometimes, he’d bury his face in your even warmer cleavage, falling right back into sleep.

“Mhhrrm… hmm? What did you say?… mhh… didn’t hear..”

In the evenings…

Believe it or not, he becomes even quieter in the evenings. Giyu will silently stare at you, begging at you to just hold him and cradle him to sleep with his eyes. He’d hover around you with eyebags under his eyes, always standing near you until you offer to cuddle him.

His eyebags, glossy eyes and messy hair look him look like a lost puppy, so it was a matter of time until you offered to cuddle in bed. Your soft skin under his calloused hands never felt any nicer.

Giyu would be out in a matter of minutes and fall asleep in an awkward position. One arm would be wrapped around your waist while the other was angled on his side.

“Agh, my shoulder hurts. Did I fall asleep in a weird way?”

💠

I thought of this last night. I have another similar idea about sleepy hairplay and I’m thinking about either writing that idea for the Upper Moons or the hashira, either way, thank you for reading! As mentioned before, I’ll post some asks on the weekend <3

Anyways, make sure to EAT, SLEEP and DRINK enough!

Take care of yourselves <3

[alice-kanzaki]

cw: fluff. isekai au. selfship-coded. female pronouns.

In all your focus on becoming strong enough to protect yourself and not be a burden to others, it hadn’t occurred to you that as a Demon Slayer, you’d be receiving a paycheck. 

A fat one at that.

You’re not exactly sure what to do with it. The envelope had shown up, slipped below the door of your lodgings at the Ubuyashiki mansion with your name on it, and while you’re not completely sure what the conversion rate + inflation would be, the sheer size of the stack was enough to make you quite confident that it was a lot of money. The issue is, you have very little use for money as you receive meals and board by virtue of Kagaya’s kindness, and the things you would buy if you could don’t particularly exist in this timeline. 

As you sit on your futon and think again about what it would mean to save and how banking would work in this timeline, and if it’s even worth it given your particular circumstances, a sudden flash of Tanjiro’s smile comes to mind, and you immediately know what to do.

You should buy him a gift. After all, you wouldn’t have gotten through your first mission if not for Tanjiro, you consider, your face warming as you consider what things you’ve seen him receive that delighted him the most. Then you consider that perhaps a gift is too presumptuous, and you see him happy when he has a nice meal, or perhaps you could get something nice for both him and Nezuko because that wouldn’t look too strange, plus he’s happy when she’s happy, or perhaps you could-

Your thought spiral is interrupted by the sound of a knock on your door. Two gentle raps, and then you hear his voice.

Think of an angel and he will appear.

“___, are you busy today?”

When you ignore your slightly quickened heartbeat to let him in, he looks just like the picture in your mind’s eye, sweet, practically glowing with warmth, save for the fact that you notice his hair is slightly damp and his skin dewy as if he’s just bathed. He’s wearing his Demon Slayer uniform but with his regular green and black checked haori over top and his sword is at his side as though he plans to travel. He smells good, and you hope you smell at least decent to him, too.

You shake your head no. 

“Are you planning on going somewhere? Did you get a new mission?” you ask. 

“No, I wanted to know…” he pauses for a moment, then scratches the back of his neck, looking up at the ceiling, “if you wanted perhaps to go out to town with me. I was hoping to congratulate you for your first mission.”

You blink twice. He really is always one step ahead of you, you realize. 

Tanjiro lets his hand fall to the side and nods at you, now with a steadier expression. “You did a really great job.”

To this, you can’t help but let out a soft chuckle.

“You mean by staying alive while you cleaned up?” you ask. Tanjiro decides to indulge in your humor, insisting, “It wasn’t all me.” he insists. 

Perhaps that much is true. Tanjiro is a good friend and mentor so it’s not odd that he would extend this kindness first. It’s also an opportunity it would be best to seize, treating him to udon or dango, and offering him some gratitude as well. 

Your mind may shift from time to time to the time he used his own mouth to suck turbulent air from your unnatural breathing technique out of your own lungs, but he is simply a friend.

And friends can hang out. 

—

“It’s a beautiful fit,” the shop owner says as you slip on a peach pink jacket with colorful embroidered petals and blossoms, the last of the four you’ve tried on to Tanjiro’s surprising patience, and glance at yourself in the mirror. 

Something about this entire scene feels wrong but also right to you. For one, you’re not the one who suggested this particular shop - rather it was Tanjiro who insisted you consider window shopping with him, under the guise of finding something for Nezuko, but soon you’d realized that he hadn’t exactly picked anything out, content to watch you leaf through hung designs and listen to the shopkeeper’s promise of superior quality compared to the other stores in the district. You consider that whatever would look good on you would look good on Nezuko and with each trying on of a jacket, you offer pros and cons.

This one is a bit airy and light, very comfortable for summer time.

I think this one might clash with her hair color.

The texture’s too thick here, I’m not sure I like this one as much but it’s very high quality, I can tell.

This last one however is simply perfect in feel and design, and you feel somewhat bad when you turn to Tanjiro and sheepishly say,

“This one is super pretty. I know we’re shopping for Nezuko but I think I might buy this one for myself.” Tanjiro smiles as he rises from the chair in the corner. He’s sat politely for the past few minutes saying very little except nodding appreciatively.

“It looks beautiful on you,” he states as casually as if he were describing the weather, then turns to the older lady running the shop, the same lady who had spent a few minutes glancing between him and you as well, and you’d pretended not to notice. 

“How much?” Tanjiro asks. 

Surprised, you wonder if he hadn’t heard you.

The seamstress names her price and Tanjiro is quick to give money, before you finally hold in your need to be polite and nudge him.

“What are you doing?” you whisper. He’s unfazed as he hands money over, then smiles at you.

“Buying you a gift.”

“You don’t have to…” you start, but trail off as the woman receiving the money shoots you a dirty look that has you fall silent.

“You’re right, I don’t have to. But I would like to,” he adds.

You leave the shop promptly with a parcel in your hand and the seamstress’ eyes on your back.

—

Perhaps you do look like a couple, even if that’s the furthest thing from the truth. Tanjiro won’t let you treat him to any of the food, insisting you save your money instead through bites of skewered meat and noodles, and you finally find out which bakery supplies the Castella he brings by for you and your friends, as well as the girls at the Butterfly Mansion.

It’s better than anything you’ve tasted in your time, even if you practically choke on a roll when the baker tells you Tanjiro is lucky to be in the company of a pretty girl.

In your own time, you’ve been called pretty before, but this description today strikes at the very pit of your stomach, filling it with butterflies. Does Tanjiro know that you’re pretty? Does he agree? You ponder this for a few moments, then you’re immediately embarrassed to be thinking something so childish. 

Whether you’re pretty or not is moot. To him, you’re a younger sister to whom he buys gifts and food. Perhaps more pathetic since you are not related, since you have no one else, since you’re trapped here.

Tanjiro doesn’t answer the question you’ve posed in your head out loud, but he grins.

“I’m quite lucky indeed.”

—

As you walk side by side at the close of the evening, Tanjiro enthuses you in your progress, and you talk about all and nothing. There are red bean paste buns in your hand that you chew on idly between thoughts.

You’re not sure how the day went by so quickly, not while you were parallel processing, doing mental math to figure out what he thinks of you - as friend, as someone to dote on like a child, as someone who he could potentially…

No, that cannot possibly be it.

“Did you have fun today?” he asks. His cheeks are a warm pink and he’s looking straight ahead rather than at you, but his shoulders are relaxed and he bites and chews as he waits for your answer.

“Of course, I did,” you tell him. “This is…,” you pause, then continue, “probably the first time I’ve been anywhere nice, just for fun, since I got to this place.” Admitting it feels strange, but it’s true. Your life has now been limited to the mansion and towns you don’t know. Duty-driven, despair-driven, danger-driven. 

Tanjiro looks at you for a moment, and for just a moment his look is wistful. 

“Are you happy here?” he asks. Your mouth opens then closes, and then he quickly catches himself in a nervous laugh.

“Probably a stupid question, given none of your family is here, and you don’t have any of your technology and it’s not even your country and-”

You squeeze his hand for a moment.

“I’m happy now,” you offer him, then let go quickly. “Thank you for spending time with me.”

His mouth opens for a moment, and you wonder if you overstepped but he beams, and you wonder what you’d do without this small friendship.

“We should go back,” you quickly fill in before he can say something else and you can regret touching him. You’re the first to take a few steps forward, practically skipping, snacks and new clothing in hand, and you hear him behind you catching up.

“Yeah, let’s get you home safe.”

[alice-kanzaki]

-ˋˏ ༻…oops…༺ ˎˊ- kny x reader

||synopsis: You’re caught completely off guard when ____ calls you by a pet name/compliments you. Most people wouldn’t get caught off guard by this, but the two of you aren’t even in a relationship yet. It just slipped out of their mouth. ➳ (before the confession scenario) 

||characters: Kamado Tanjiro, Agatsuma Zenitsu, Hashibira Inosuke, Shinazugawa Genya, Tokito Muichiro (separate), (gn! reader), (fluff), (headcanons + oneshot) <3

“kiss me hard before you go, summertime sadness.” -Lana Del Rey

˚ʚkamado tanjiroɞ˚

♡He’s in love with you, and as his first priority is being a demon slayer to turn Nezuko back into a human, he does the best he could to hide the feelings and/or ignore them.

♡Of course he wants to be with you after this is all over. Actually, he wants to get with you as fast as he could. (But priorities first! …right?)

♡At first, he was embarrassed when he called you, not by your name. Although all that previous embarrassment was quick to wash away after he saw your reaction. Now he just has to hope he doesn’t fall for you even harder.

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀ ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀ ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀ ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀ ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀ ˚ 

You hummed silently to yourself while on the very top of the ladder, hanging up colorful decorations all of the butterfly mansion. With the idea from Aoi and Kanao, everyone was decorating the estate as a surprise for Shinobu. It was your job to hang decorations, Aoi to bake, and Kanao to pass out invitations to the Hashira’s.

“Y/n! Be careful!” Tanjiro who had been below you was holding onto the wobbling ladder you were standing on. He had helped you already hang up banners in half the estate. Now there was only the other half to go. And despite you being the one on the top of the latter, Tanjiro seemed to be way more anxious at you being up there.

Your body stretched forward in an attempt to hook up the end of the lavender banner to the other side of the wall. Without realizing, you began to wobble in the slightest, stressing out Tanjiro in fear of you falling.

“Dear, be careful!” You quickly paused your actions. Thankfully, you had already hooked up the end of the banner. You felt your face get hot as you looked down at Tanjiro, checking to see if he had coincidentally called someone else dear. But he had been staring right at you. 

At first, he seemed confused on why you became to flustered out of no where. Until he realized what he said. His own face turned a dark red as he tried to explain himself. But he only became a stuttering mess.

Taisho Secret!: After what happened you tripped off of the ladder in embarrassment and Tanjiro had to catch you, making him blush more.

˚ʚagatsuma zenitsuɞ˚

♡Let’s be completely honest, he’s head over heels in love with you and not afraid to show it. He calls you pet names all the time. He calls you his love, future lover, and his soulmate. 

♡Sure the first time he called you a cute name and complimented you, you blushed profusely. But eventually, you got used to the pet names.

♡Zenitsu, for one, will never forget the day you got flustered from him calling you a pet name. As for you, you tried your best to forget it at how embarrassing the whole scenario had been.

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀ ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀ ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀ ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀ ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀ ˚ 

You laid on the soft futon on the floor, zenitsu’s futon being right beside yours as tanjiro’s was on Zenitsu’s side, Inosuke being on the other end. You had a long night and were mostly just happy you made friends and wouldn’t be alone on your journey as a demon slayer.

However one thing that had made your day seem extra slow and long was one of the boys you met. Zenitsu. He was adorable but he was relentless in trying to get you to be his spouse.

Your back had been facing zenitsu as you were trying to finally get some sleep. That was until zenitsu snapped you out of your thoughts by poking your back repeatedly. With a small sigh you turned the other way to face Zenitsu.

As every other time you saw him, he had tears in his eyes. “What happened, Zenitsu?” You asked, your eyes half lidded as you just wanted sleep. It took everything in you to not pass out in the middle of your conversation with him.

That conversation had mostly just been him talking to you. But you couldn’t pay attention to a single thing you said. “Love? Are you okay?” Your eyes suddenly widened as you felt yourself blush. 

“AWW! YOU’RE BLUSHING!”

“Zenitsu, Go to sleep!” Tanjiro yelled, throwing a pillow right at the boys head as Inosuke began laughing loudly.

Taisho Secret!: Zenitsu teased you about your flustered state for weeks and wouldn’t drop the topic. He believed even more that you two were meant for each other.

˚ʚhashibira inosukeɞ˚

♡In a situation like this with him, your most definitely not going to be the embarrassed one, even if it is you that received the compliment.

♡Inosuke has pride. A lot of pride. So the moment he ‘accidentally’ compliments you, his face is secretly burning a bright red. Thankfully his boat mask had been there to cover for him.

♡Getting a compliment from inosuke doesn’t happen very often. Especially when the two of you aren’t even in a relationship together. So you better cherish the moment while you can.

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀ ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀ ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀ ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀ ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀ ˚ 

Inosuke calling you strong was just about the only compliment you received from him. And sometimes, it didn’t even seem like a compliment with the way he sounds so sarcastic and whenever he says it. And he also always brings up his own strength in the ‘compliment’ calling himself stronger than you.

And from Inosuke, you never would have expected to get a non-sarcastic compliment. Especially when it comes to your looks. 

You, Tanjiro, Zenitsu, and him all planned on going to a small festival nearby just for the fun of it. And for a break from slaying demons. And as the only thing you wear every day now being the demon slayer uniform, you didn’t think it would hurt to dress up a little.

Being out of the corps uniform felt comforting in a way. Despite still having to bring your katana just in case, it felt nice to feel like a normal person your age.

You walked outside, seeing only inosuke outside, dressed up and out of the usual pants he would wear. But the boar mask remained. You stood beside the boy, waiting for the other two to come. 

“You look pretty..” You heard a Mutter from inosuke, making you shocked. You turned over to the boy with a questioning look on your face.

“Did you-“

“No!” He yelled quickly, crossing his arms. A small blush dusted your cheeks as you moved your arms over to his boar mask to take it off. The moment you did, you noticed his red face making yourself turn red as well.

Taisho Secret!: When Inosuke told you that you looked pretty, Tanjiro heard and brought it up to you during the festival making your face turn pink. Inosuke saw and felt a little jealous but he’ll never admit that.

˚ʚshinazugawa genyaɞ˚

♡He spoke without thinking. And the very moment it slipped out of his mouth, it took no time for him to turn the darkest shade or red. 

♡You immediately turned a light red but the moment Genya began apologizing for calling you that and assumingely making you uncomfortable, you felt really bad.

♡100% had to assure him multiple times that it was completely fine and you didn’t mine one bit. He stopped apologizing but he was stiff as a board the entire day as he couldn’t shake off what had happened.

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀ ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀ ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀ ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀ ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀ ˚ 

You and Genya had both chosen to visit a small lake that day. The two of you were simply in the water, splashing each other and staying afloat.

While not paying attention, you didn’t realize Genya staring at you with a small smile on his face. The moment you saw, your head tilted to the side. You eventually waved your hands in his face to break him out of his small trance.

Although even that didn’t really seem to work.

“Genya?” You asked before moving your hand back to your side.

“You’re so lovely.”

He paused. You paused. His face slowly turned a dark red and so did you. He was quick to put his hands up in defense.

“I’M SORRY!-“

“NO GENYA, DON’T WORRY-“

Taisho Secret!: Genya was ashamed thinking he may have upset you. So when the little lake day ended, he felt super guilty, thinking he made things awkward. Sanemi soon got worried at his brothers embarrassed state but Genya refused to say what was wrong.

˚ʚtokito muichiroɞ˚

♡Poor Muichiro has horrible memory and everyone knows that. In some cases, having horrible memory can be a good thing, and in other cases, it’s really bad. For obvious reasons, it’s mostly bad.

♡But when this happened, Muichiro had a win win situation. Muichiro cares deeply about you and out of all the Hashira’s, he only ever hangs out with you. For that reason your company means a lot to him, even if neither of you knew it.

♡Mitsuri and Tengen had also both informed Muichiro about his feelings for you. So when he found out he was in love with you, he sort of forgot that he wasn’t dating you. More so with the way you’re both always clingy to each other.

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀ ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀ ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀ ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀ ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀ ˚ 

You walked around the main garden with nothing else to do. Muichiro was practically clinging onto your arm as he too had nothing else to do. Honestly, unexpected visits from him had gotten normal so you never payed much attention to it.

After a while of walking around, you took a small seat on the grass, Muichiro soon after sat right next to you, a blank expression on his face as he put his head on your shoulder.

It was something he always did. It took a while of getting used to it as your face would always flush at first. Now it had been comforting.

“Love, what are you doing tomorrow?” Muichiro asked, gazing up at the sky as his head was still placed on your shoulder.

“I-“ Right when you about to answer, you paused. Your face slowly began turning a light shade of red as you stiffened. Muichiro felt it, soon after bringing his head off your shoulder. He gave you a small head tilt, amused at your reaction.

“Mui..?” You asked, waiting to see if he even realized what he said. With the amused expression, you were sure he did. “You called me-“

“Are we not dating?” His amused expression faltered as he gave you a more genuinely confused one. You blushed more, not sure at what to say.

Taisho Secret!: Since Muichiro never got a direct answer from you, he spent and entire month thinking the two of you were dating and so Mitsuri had to later explain he hadn’t asked you out yet. Maybe that’s why you got so embarrassed when Muichiro told Zenitsu the two of you were dating.

[alice-kanzaki]

hii!! can you write kagaya and tanjiro’s reactions to a vampire demon slayer? with like, the full suite of powers (charming, turning into a bat, ability to see in the dark, sharp teeth). maybe they’re around tanjiro’s age and joined when he did?

BLOOD MOON — platonic tanjiro, kagaya & reader !

synopsis. how do they react to a vampire demon slayer? warnings. mentions of blood. notes. platonic. teen!reader. gn!reader. they/them used. fluff. headcanons. 1.7k words. this was pretty fun to write, thanks for the request anon! i hope this was alright :')

—TANJIRO

tanjiro would be lying if he didn't think there was something off about them. they were one of the few that had passed final selection at the same time as him, so he met them on the seventh day, just as the ubuyashiki children began to explain the demon slayer rankings. they were standing next to him, shifting their weight from foot to foot.

at first glance, they looked like the average demon slayer, with a sword in their hand and a weary but eager expression. but there was something strange about their scent; they smelled very distinctly of blood. he'd felt a little confused, but brushed it off quickly. they all smelt like blood, they had been fighting demons for a week, after all.

it was only after they were done with the orientation that tanjiro got the chance to greet them properly. he introduced himself with a warm smile, asking for their name. and when they opened their mouth to speak, he noticed a flash of white; two sharp canine teeth, resembling fangs.

after that, the details just started adding up. the smell of blood lingered long after they'd cleaned up from the battle, they shied away from standing in direct sunlight for too long, their night-vision was perfect, and of course, the sharpened fangs...

he was confused at first, but didn't voice it. who was he to call them out for their oddities, when he could quite literally smell their good nature? all of them were a little strange in their own way, it wasn't his place to question them on it.

it hit him one day when he was sitting by their campfire, watching the rest of the group sleep. inosuke was sprawled out across the dirt, zenitsu was curled up in ball, using his haori as a blanket, and nezuko was laying by his side. her bamboo muzzle had slipped away from her face as she left, exposing her fangs peeking through her half-open mouth. they were sharp little things, sticking out among the rest of her teeth. absently, he thought the sight of them reminded him of someone; they were almost identical to—

he suddenly jolted, like he'd been shocked. it was so obvious, how could he not have thought of it before? they were a demon.

they didn't need to be worried though, tanjiro understood! he carried his demon sister around in a box, he wasn't in any place to judge.

but he knew they might be hesitant to reveal it to the rest of the corps. that was alright! he would hold his tongue, until they were ready to tell him themself.

(it did bother him slightly, their peculiar traits compared to most demons. they were clearly averse to the sun, but didn't seem to be harmed from it the way nezuko did; he'd seen them run to find shade from the sunlight, but their skin didn't disintegrate into ash, only turning red and blistery. strange. he would have to ask about that sometime.)

when he does finally confront them, it's after a shared mission. the two had finished defeating one of a pair of demons, hurriedly making their way to meet up with shinobu, who had accompanied them.

he's a little nervous to bring it up, but he steels himself and blurts the question out.

“[name], are you a demon?”

they stopped in their tracks, almost stumbling over a root and falling to the floor. the look they fixed him was an odd blend of confusion, horror and amusement at the same time. “what was that?”

“are you a demon?”

“of course i’m not.” they laughed weakly. “what makes you think that?”

“well… the constant smell of blood was one clue. the fact that you dislike sunlight is another. you can see perfectly in the dark, you have sharp teeth… i figured it out a while ago, i just was waiting to ask you about it.” he paused. “it’s okay, you know? i’m not going to judge you.”

“i’m not a demon!” they protested.

“you don’t have to be self-conscious! nezuko’s a demon too!” tanjiro reached over his shoulder to cheerfully knock on the top of the wooden box, earning him a muffled noise that sounded somewhere between a growl and a cheer.

“i’m not though, i’m…” there was a hint of hesitation in their voice, a trace of reluctance. they seemed to push past it, long enough to blurt out, “i’m a vampire.”

the words took a while to register in his mind. “a… vampire?”

they fidgeted with the edge of their uniform, their eyes cast to the ground. “yes.”

“like… the blood-sucking kind? the… turning into a bat kind?”

“yes.” they pause. “that kind.”

“huh.” tanjiro thought about it for a few moments, turning over the word in his mind. “vampire. that’s not so different to a demon, is it?”

“a vampire, you say?” a soft voice cut smoothly into their conversation. the two teenagers jumped, turning to see the insect hashira herself smiling at them. she was staring at [name] rather intensely, like they were a bug under a microscope, waiting to be studied. “well, isn’t that interesting.”

—KAGAYA

it wasn't a secret much longer. after the news of their vampiric state was spilled, there was another meeting called at the ubuyashiki estate. this time, instead of nezuko, it was them on trial, as the master and the hashira decided what to do with them.

some argued that a vampire was no different than a demon, and they should be treated as such. others argued that they had spent long enough in the corps to prove themselves worthy of the title of demon slayer.

nezuko's successful trial seemed to work in their favour, as tanjiro fought on their behalf, arguing that if she could suppress her urge to eat humans, then surely they could too? the months of experience working in the corps, and the other slayers that vouched for them managed to sway kagaya into looking past their supposed 'threat' to the corps, and rewelcoming them as a demon slayer.

there were a few rules set into place, though.

for starters, they were under the same oath as nezuko; if they were to attack a human, they would be treated as any common demon and slain without a thought. there would be no second trial, no second chance.

secondly, they were only allowed to drink the blood of humans when it was given freely, relying on either donations or animal blood to satiate their hunger. that wasn't unreasonable, it was how they had been surviving thus far anyway. (tanjiro even introduced them to a friend of his, tamayo, who offered to help them with obtaining ethically-sourced blood.)

but the final condition was a strange one: they were to meet with kagaya himself once every month.

the request made them pause. what reason would he have to want them to visit him so frequently? upon being questioned, he assured them it was to just make sure they were doing alright and settling in okay, especially with their... condition.

when they visited him for the first time, he invited them to come have tea with him. the visit was quiet, punctuated by the occasional idle chatter, but strangely peaceful.

in between commenting about their last mission, kagaya started to carefully question them about their vampirism. how long they'd been one, how they had turned, where they were getting blood... there wasn't any accusation or sharpness to his words, only gentle curiosity.

he seemed especially intrigued by the abilities that they gained from it. charming was an interesting one, the ability to compel a person to do whatever they wanted. they confessed that they weren't as skilled in that regard, but he was impressed nonetheless.

their ability to transform into a bat caught his attention most of all. it was a useful skill, and would help them as a demon slayer if they were able to master it.

overall his reaction to them was... slightly underwhelming? i mean... he does live in a world of demons, having a vampire isn't much of stretch, but he's strangely calm about it all, save for the open curiosity he expresses towards their state.

it doesn't matter to him. he can see that their intentions for joining the demon slayer corps were sound, and there was no need to draw the situation out more than it needed to be. they were no different than any of his other children, and that was that.

“you’re early today.” kagaya smiled as they approached, bowing respectfully to him. “shall we walk?”

he waited for them to rise to their feet, falling into step beside him. together they strolled quietly through the garden that surrounded the mansion, the evening breeze gently brushing across their faces. dusk had already fallen, and the last stretches of day had begun to bleed from the horizon, leaving a bright full moon behind.

“i trust you have been well?” kagaya hummed.

“i have.”

“and your… particular needs are being met?”

they nodded sharply. “i’ve been receiving blood from tamayo, enough to last me a while.”

“that is good to hear.” kagaya smiled at them, all warmth and soft edges. “i’ll have to admit, i was rather concerned when i was first informed of your dietary requirements, but you seem to be plenty capable of taking care of them on your own without needing help.”

it was nerve-wrecking, when they were told they were to be put on trial for concealing their vampirism from the demon slayer corps. they were a touch too close to being a demon than any of the slayers were comfortable with, but kagaya seemed unfazed.

nothing about their state seemed to faze him; not the sharp teeth, not the bloodlust. he only seemed… curious. it was almost refreshing to have someone so interested in their condition, without a trace of fear or ill intention. most would treat them as a monster, no different than a wild beast, but kagaya was different.

it was relieving, and just slightly unnerving.

“you seem troubled.” kagaya noted. “is something on your mind?”

before they could answer him, he was giving them that warm smile again, and placing a gentle hand on their shoulder to guide them back towards the mansion.

“come, let’s go inside. i will have some tea prepared for us, and then we’ll have a proper talk. how does that sound?”

© aviiarie 2024. do not copy, repost, translate or use my work to train ai.

[alice-kanzaki]

[alice-kanzaki]

Hc that Tanjirou knows how to clean and bury the dead since he helped when it was his grandma and dad. But since this time there are too many bodies to bury, he asks for help from old man Saburo.

[alice-kanzaki]

how they are when they're in love... part two, ft. mitsuri, shinobu, & obanai

an: hello. boy oh boy. i think this turned out well and yes i still suck at deadlines (im a week ish late). anyways! hope you enjoy this anon! this is for u :)

request: "Omg your latest fic was so good! Can I request the same prompt but with the rest of the Hashira, especially the girls? 💗"

cw: hurt comfort, fem reader, not proofread

wc: 3.1k

Mitsuri is so overly obvious with her feelings. You two got along just fine during Hashira training. You kept your distance though, something about her unbridled happiness unsettled you. There wasn’t much for you to smile about with the impending battle against the demons. 

So you trained hard and just when you were about to collapse you’d train even harder. Until you were gasping for air possibly on the brink of death by exhaustion. You dug your hands into the dirt, sweat dripping down your face. You swear you could taste your own blood. You didn’t even hear her approach. 

“Pushing yourself past exhaustion will never make you stronger.” Her voice was sweet, worried even. You clenched your teeth as you caught your breath. 

“I’m fine.” Two words that sounded horrifically stupid coming from you, who was currently on your knees tasting blood. Mitsuri walked closer, you heard her feet press into the dirt as she bent to her knees, eyes leveling with yours yet you didn’t meet hers. 

“You strain yourself. Run yourself thin. You oversleep. You under eat. And these are all just things you’ve done this past week.”

“I appreciate the concern, Ms. Kanroji.” You didn’t appreciate it. You weren’t really hardwired to let someone in when you were struggling. You thought that made you strong. 

“I think, as your superior, I'm going to have to forbid you from training for this week.” Your eyes snapped to hers. 

“What?” You barked, eyes wide. 

“Come on,” she offered you a hand. “On your feet.”  You looked at her hand. Disrespecting a Hashira would get you nowhere. If you want to get better and be useful to the Hashira when the time comes you shouldn’t challenge their authority. You kept the sigh to yourself as you slid your hand into hers and let her pull you to your feet with surprising strength. You swayed slightly and Mitsuri only held on tighter. “I don’t want to upset you but I won’t let you work yourself to death.” She reached out, swiping your hair away from your face. It made your heart flutter embarrassingly in your chest. You pointedly decided to ignore that. “You’ll be by my side this week instead.” She says. 

“Doing what?”

It turned out Mitsuri’s idea of a punishment was to feed you four times a day, constantly ask about your personal life and braid your hair before bed. So far you have trained under three Hashira’s. They didn’t care a lick about your training night and day in fact they encouraged it. But Mitsuri seemed personally offended when you asked for an hour of actual training. You were actually dying a little inside. So late one night, rainy pouring down providing you cover, you slipped out into the night, katana in hand. You swung until your arms ached. Until you couldn’t feel your skin from the freezing cold rain. When you headed back your heart dropped to your feet. Mitsuri was waiting for you on the steps of your cabin. 

“Ms. Kanroji,” you greeted, guilty and embarrassed at being caught. “I’m… sorry-“

“Come inside,” she directs. You follow. She helps you peel off your drenched kimono and wrings out your hair all while not saying a word. It was honestly… terrifying. You directly disobeyed her and you don’t think you’d ever heard her as quiet before. “Let me run you a warm bath, you need to warm up.” She says, disappearing down the hall. You called after her but she ignored you. You let your eyes fall closed. All you worked for? Would it all be gone in the blink of an eye because of your need to drive yourself past your limits? When Mitsuri appeared back in the hall you reached for her hand but stopped short of touching her. 

“Ms. Kanroji… please um— let me apologize.” You watched her eyes follow your hand that reached for her. You wondered if she was angry, if she’d punish you. 

“Your hand…” She trailed off, she reached for you, grabbing your hand gently and inspecting the blisters and bruises. You blushed to your toes. Her hand was soft, not a callous to be seen. It made no sense, she was a damn hashira after all. “You swing your sword with hate in your heart. You swing your sword with no regard to yourself.��� She says, eyes snapping up to yours. You probably looked like a deer in headlights. “I’ve always noticed that about you. You are incredibly driven with zero regard for your own safety. You strike me as someone who will fight and not care about the damage you do to yourself.” 

“If I can kill a demon and save a life, then it’s worth it, don’t you think?” You ask. Her eyes go hard but her gentle grip on your hand stays. 

“Don’t you want to be around when all is said and done? Because I want you to.” You were at a loss for words. Your hair still wet from the rain, dripping on the floor around you. Standing in your warm cabin, Mitsuri a step away you realized you’d never stop and thought about what you wanted when all was done. You genuinely had never given it a single thought. All you wanted was to kill demons. 

“That doesn’t seem… possible.” You say. Mitsuri takes a step closer. 

“To you. You… forgive me… you can be very bleak sometimes.” You reach, pushing your hair out of your face. 

“Not everyone can afford to think like you.” You say and when her hand cups your face you suck in a breath. 

“Maybe not. But you can.” She says and suddenly you understand her protectiveness. You understand her stepping in and forcing you to take care of yourself. Your entire body stiffens, lips parting in surprise. What had you done to attract something like this? 

“Can I?” You echo and Mitsuri’s entire face softens, the pad of her thumb gliding against your cheek. You’d never had someone look out for you like Mitsuri had. Never had someone force you to take care of yourself. Something tightened at the notion that you could let this moment pass you by. You’d let it happen before. You wouldn’t do that shit again. You stepped forwards and pulled the love Hashira to you, pressing your cold lips to her warm ones. 

~

Shinobu’s love is quiet. You wouldn’t even know it’s there if you didn’t look hard enough. And if you didn’t try hard enough because she seems jovial and loving but… she’s not really. There's an undercurrent of hurt and cutting mistrustfulness. She’ll laugh at your jokes but she doesn’t actually find them funny. She’ll smile when you smile but it doesn’t reach her eyes. You’d never met someone like her. Someone who puts themselves out there but seemingly hates every second of it. 

After a mission gone south you were saved by one of the Hashira and toted back to the butterfly mansion. There you were informed that you’d be taken off the line of duty due to the severity of your injury. Any further damage could leave you unable to walk. This whole situation felt like the world finally giving up on you. All your cheeriness is gone in days. You were irrevocably changed the day you wrapped up your sword. Out of sight, out of mind you thought but… no… it stayed on the forefront of your mind. A failure. That’s what you were. A failure. You failed your mission, your team, yourself. 

At dawn on your fifth day at the mansion you packed up your things and toted them to the front door. The girls, mostly Aoi, were against you leaving so soon but to be honest with yourself the longer you stayed the more you felt disheartened. You thanked the girls for their help and slung your bag over your shoulders, pushing out into the dawn. The chill permeating through you. You got as far as the gate before you heard her voice. 

“Leaving so soon?” Her voice asked sweetly, but when you looked over at her, there was nothing sweet about her. Her lips pursed, arms crossed, body rigid. 

“I’m feeling much better.” You say, unable to meet her eyes.

“The color to your face hasn’t returned and you’ve already worked up a sweat walking from the front door to the gate.” You reach up, wiping your forehead with the back of your hand, sighing softly. 

“Miss Kocho, it’s time for me to go. I’m sure you understand my meaning.” You say, pulling on the strap of your bag. Shinobu cocks her head, her brows rising. “Take care of yourself.”You say, finally meeting her eyes. The sadness in them gave you pause. You stopped mid-step, heart in your throat. 

“When will you visit again?” She asked, voice clipped. You sucked in a silent breath, throat dry. You’d never really been able to read her before but right now, her face, the tone of her voice… it felt as though she was very unhappy. You parted your lips to speak but nothing rose to your lips. You didn’t know the next time you’d visit. You swallowed and wetted your lips. 

“I’m not… sure. But… write me. I'll visit again sometime.” You answer, trying for the cheery nature you used to possess but really your words came out hollow. 

“Write you?” Shinobu echoed and you nodded your head. 

“My crow… I tried sending him back but I don’t think that stubborn thing will leave my side for sometime. You can write me and he will retrieve it for me.” You explained, fiddling with your fingers. 

“I don’t… want to write you.” All the air left your body. Your eyes snapped up to hers. Damage control. You nodded your head. 

“Of course Miss Kocho, you’re busy. I understand.” 

“That’s not my meaning.” 

“What is… what is your meaning?” You ask. 

“I’d prefer you to stay. Get some color in your face before trekking miles home.” Her voice was sweet, melodic but you couldn’t shake the uneasiness. Couldn’t shake the feeling she was barely riding a thin line to anger. 

“Miss?”

“Hm?”

“Are you angry with me?” You asked. Shinobu’s eyes snapped to yours. It was her turn to look slightly unsettled by your words. 

“I’m not angry.” She said. You sat your bags on the dirt. 

“I… I implore you. If you have something to say to me. Something… important. Please say it. I’m not a part of the corp anymore. I’m finished. I’m heading home. This… is the moment to say it. If you have something to say, that is.” You said and you didn’t look away from her, no matter how red your cheeks got. Shinobu’s expression opened up with each word you spoke and the sadness in her eyes was finally apparent. 

“We have a place for you here. You still have use in the corp.” she said and you shook your head. 

“Talk to me as an equal. Not a Hashira to a demon slayer.” You implored. Shinobu clenched her jaw and she was quiet for quite some time. 

“You’re bold.” She says and you swallow. 

“I apologize. I… I only want to…” you weren’t sure exactly what you wanted at this moment but then you steeled your face and spoke. “I know you hide your true feelings. I wanted to give you the space to… be free in them. If that’s what you want.” 

“You speak as though you already know them.” She said sharply, unkindly. You nodded your head. 

“Then I am wrong. I apologize.” You say, leaning to grab your bag again but Shinobu steps closer, foot on the strap of your bag. You swallowed nervously, have you pissed her off? You raise back up, reluctantly meeting her eyes. 

“If I asked you to stay would you?”

“I have no use here.”

“I didn’t ask if you’d stay in the corp.” she says and your mouth goes dry. “With me. If I asked you to stay with me… would you?” Her words didn’t have the underlying anger they used to always have. Instead there was a sort of… desperation in her voice. You stared at her… openly surprised. 

“With you?” You echoed and Shinobu stepped off your strap, nodding her head. “What… exactly does that mean to you?” 

“I’m sure you understand my meaning.” She says, just as you had. You… stepped closer. Eye to eye. Her eyes… softening. Your lips fighting a smile. 

“I’ll stay. If that’s what you want.”

“Is that what you want?” She asks and you reach for her face, your cold hand sliding over her cold cheek. 

“Yes… that’s what I wa-“ she surged forwards, lips eagerly seeking yours. You could finally read her. Could finally tell she was hurting at the thought of never seeing you again. You could tell from the way she kissed you. So desperate and almost feverish, hands tightening their grip on your clothes, pulling you hard and flush against her. Almost as though this was her first and only opportunity to have you. You let her kiss you hard, let her play out her anxiety and you stayed. You’d never leave. 

~

Obanai’s love is hidden. You wouldn’t even know it’s there until you push his buttons. Which is exactly what happened when you were toted alongside him on a very important mission. Of course things went south and when you were caught up in the battle, injured beyond belief, Obanai took control. You’d never seen a Hashira go full out but… he didn’t even look human. He killed every single demon in the worst way possible. None of them had an easy death. And the demon that hurt you? Well… he saved that one for last.

After he carried you back to the butterfly mansion he did not leave your side but he also did not utter a single word to you. He was pissed. You knew he was pissed. The rigid way he sat and ate and slept. You’d tried many times to coax him out of his reverie but he was far beyond pissed. 

He had a good reason after all. He had told you not to leave his side, that you could get hurt. So you stupidly left his side and got hurt. It was your first mission and you felt useless just standing by so you wanted to help. Unfortunately you only made things worse. 

“Mr. Obanai? Please accept my apology.” You started for the fourth night in a row. He didn’t even look up from his plate. “Or not accept my apology. Do as you please just please speak to me.” You pleaded, voice soft and sad. “I know you’re angry. But nothing can be solved if you just ignore me.” He set his fork down and reached for his drink. His fingers slender as they slide around his cup, bringing the now lukewarm tea to his lips. You watched him. Frustrated and confused. A moment passed then a minute. He went back to eating. You huffed, pushing your tray off your lap and sliding out of bed. The moment your feet touched the floor you gasped as Obanai stepped in your way. So fast. 

“You can’t walk.” Ah. So he could speak to you. 

“I can. I feel fine.” You said, defiant eyes looking up at him. His eyes staring savagely down at yours. It was like he was trying to intimidate you to lay back down without explicitly telling you. 

“No. You’re staying in bed.” 

“I cannot stand another minute cooped up in here with you. I am losing my mind.” You argued, your voice steady as you planted your hands on the bed, trying to push yourself to your feet. Obanai placed both of his hands on your shoulders, pressing you back down on the bed. You stared up at him as his hands slid from your shoulders to cup your cheeks. You blushed. You couldn’t help it. Stomach dropping as he stared down at you. 

“You never listen. So impossible.” He sighs, still holding you so softly. You stared up at him, breath hitching as his thumbs swiped softly across your cheeks. 

“Mister-“

“Hush.” He cut in. “Just be quiet.” Your lips parted, surprised. His words held no harshness. He just… he sounded tired. “You proved to me that I couldn’t trust you out there. You got yourself hurt.” 

“I was trying to help-“

“I know full well what you meant to do.” Silence for a beat. His hands still held you softly. “That doesn’t make it okay.”

“But-“

“There was absolutely nothing okay with you getting hurt. It shouldn’t have happened.” He said and slowly sank to his knees in front of you, hands still on your cheeks. Now you looked down at him. “I can’t forget how limp you felt in my arms. I can’t wipe that out of my memory.” Your lips parted, throat dry as you swallowed, clearing your throat slightly. 

“I’m sorry.”

“I know you are. But that… can never… ever happen again. Do you hear me?”

“Yes.” You breathe out, nodding. 

“I’ve never been… good at articulating. You always say what’s on your mind so I wanted to… do the same.”

“I really am sorry.”

“I know.” He says and you gaze down at him, heart in your throat. His right hand slides up your face, tucking your hair back out of your face. Thumb gently sliding over the bandage on your temple. 

“Does this mean… you’ll stop ignoring me?” You ask, voice just barely over a whisper. He doesn’t answer you for a beat so you lean down and steal a quick kiss. When you pull back his eyes are slightly wide as they gaze up at you. “I wanted to thank you… for saving my life.”

“Is that… always how you thank people?” He asks and you swear you can see a slight blush to his cheeks. 

“No.” You say simply. When he pulls you to him there’s nothing quick about his kiss.

[alice-kanzaki]

how they are when they’re in love… ft. rengoku, tengen, sanemi, giyu, & haganezuka

an: welllllll hellloooo. i apologize for the wait! thanks for the request :) this was so fun to write :) pls enjoy!

request: "hi, i love your writing so much, your characterization is seriously on point <3 can i request kny x hashira reader about how they’d be like when they’d have romantic feelings for the reader? tysm if you choose to do this but it’s understandable if not <3"

cw: fem reader

wc: 6.7k

It’s the little things. Rengoku isn’t stubborn. He doesn’t hide things and he’s not ashamed. He realizes quite early on that there is something about you. Something that draws his eye. You’re not someone flashy or boisterous. You’re just someone that makes his mind wander. He likes your smile, he’s told you so. He likes when you blush, something so rare because you are so seemingly serious to most. He likes your sword style and the way you fight. He likes your voice and how if he catches you late at night your voice has a softer edge to it because you’re tired. He likes making you laugh and buying you food. He likes that you eat just about as much as him and doesn't seem to mind his loud voice. So sure, all of those things could easily tell him that he’s in love with you but… but it was just one single thing that solidified it all in his mind. 

Rengoku had a cold father. He had a warm mother and a kind little brother. He liked his family but part of him was… hesitant to start his own. His father never warmed to him. No matter what he did. He didn’t know if that was something he’d turn into. And he really didn’t want to take a chance. But… then he met you. And suddenly taking that chance seemed inevitable. Being with you seemed to weigh on his mind night and night again. He used to love winding down for the night until he met you, a cold demon slayer. Now he laid awake and thought of you. His father was cold and sometimes… you reminded him of him. Your coldness didn’t seem malicious but… it was still there. Still a gentle reminder that he needed more time to know you. His only glaring spiraling thought being; would you always be cold or would you warm to him?

“Lost in thought?” You interrupted his spiraling. He swallowed and smiled softly over at you. 

“A bit.” He answered cheerfully but his smile faltered as you stared at him intently. That stare felt as though you could see straight into his soul, cutting through all the barriers and barricades he’s built. 

“You’re not eating. That’s troubling.” You pointed out. 

“I’m fine.” He lied with a smile, reaching for his chopsticks. Your eyes tracked his hands movement and he found himself blushing at how closely you were observing him. 

“Is it the mission?” You asked, picking up and taking a sip of your warm green tea. Rengoku shook his head. 

“I didn’t mean to worry you. Really I’m fine.”

“So it’s not the mission.” You concluded, crossing your arms over your chest in thought. He stared at you for a moment and you stared back. “Tell me what it is.” You said and although he’s heard you demand things of others before this was no demand. It was a gentle question with a soft tone. 

There was a table between you two, a crowded restaurant with talking patrons but suddenly the room just felt empty, you being the only person his eyes wanted to see. He couldn’t just up and say he was thinking about you because it just wouldn’t come out right. He parted his lips to speak but nothing substantial crossed his mind. You observed all of it. 

“Never mind. Tell me when you’re ready.” You said just as softly, and when he met your eyes there was no ounce of coldness in them. He felt warm all over. Nothing he’d ever felt before. He couldn’t believe he had ever for a single moment thought you were anything like his father. You chose your words wisely, no you didn’t smile much but that made your smiles that much more meaningful when he had to work for them.

”I’m in love with you.” Rengoku said without a second thought. Your hand paused, eyes stuck on the plate in front of you. 

“Hm?” You asked, as though you hadn’t heard him loud and clear. Slowly your eyes rose to meet him. Those five words were written all over his face, his soft gaze, the slight smile on his lips. You blushed almost immediately.

”I’m in love with you.” Rengoku affirmed, no shyness. Your lips parted in silent surprise.

”Oh.” You said, unable to properly digest his words at this very moment. “You are?”

”I am.” He nodded his head, leaning back in his chair. You purse your lips, embarrassed. Rengoku didn’t push the subject, he paid for the meal and when you both stood he wrapped a shawl around you and you followed him out the door into the stinging winter morning. 

You trailed behind him a few steps, walking in the indents of the snow he left. Rengoku stood out in the snow, like a sore thumb with his bright hair and fire eyes. He stood out everywhere. You reached out, barely grabbing the back of his cloak. He paused, barely turning, eyes holding that same soft gaze. There were a lot of things you weren’t sure of. Your place in the demon slayer corp for one, you standing with your peers, how this next mission was going to go. But there was one thing you were clear on.

“I love you too.” You said softly, snow falling around you two. Rengoku turned more, snow crunching underfoot. You could barely meet his eyes, blushing profusely, hoping he’d think it was from the cold. He reached for you, hand sliding around your hip, barely tugging you a step closer. He kissed you then, leaning into your space and meeting your lips with a gentle press of his own. He pulled back long enough to press a kiss to your forehead. 

“Come on, let's get you somewhere warm.”

~

Tengen was quick to fall for you. He is not embarrassed or abashed by what he feels for you. He loves loudly. It was like the cliff was in sight and then suddenly he was toppling over it with reckless abandon. It's not like you paid him any extra attention. He was a lot and you were shy, you tried your hardest to dodge him if you were being honest. But he found you. He always found you. And more importantly he saw you. Saw through the shy, curt expressions you wore. 

This time he found you at the butterfly mansion. He was recuperating from a recent mission when you were brought in, bloody and bruised. He could barely walk but he came to your bedside the first two nights. Or so you were told, you had been out for those two days. When you woke up the first day one of the girls changing your bandages told you about him staying with you and being forced away from your side. 

The next morning you woke up and Tengen was dead asleep in the chair next to your bed. The sight was… something. He was a Hashira and you were a slayer. He was always put together when you’d see him but… he was disheveled, his white hair a mess from sleep, his face serene. It was… it took your breath away. Something about his vulnerability and sudden softness made your heart quicken in your chest. 

You pushed up in your bed, it groaned gently under your weight and you paused as Tengen stirred. He moved just a bit before settling right back down. You pushed out of the bed after a moment. You’d overstayed your welcome at the mansion, you felt fine enough to travel and there was something… intimate about Tengen wasting so much time by your side when he should be focused on himself. 

Gathering your things up you moved quietly through the room, you slung your bag over your shoulder and reached for the door. 

“Leaving so soon?” His voice was smooth and rich from sleep. Your hand paused. Hoping in vain that you had heard things but then you heard him pushing up in the chair he was slouched in. You cleared your throat. 

“I was assigned a new mission.”

“I’ll accompany you.” He says and you spin around, shaking your head.

“No need. You’re recovering.”

“And so are you.” He says, pushing to his feet and stretching like a giant animal. You purse your lips as he yawns.

“I’m fine. You’re a hashira, you shouldn’t waste time on low level missions.” You say as Tengen raises a brow. 

“Low level?” He echoes, looking slightly amused. You nodded your head doubling down on your statement. He smiled at you, laughing slightly. He looked… entirely too handsome like this. You looked away, blushing. “Regardless of mission difficulty I’d still like to accompany you.” You swallowed, the room was small. Tengen’s hair was down, mussed a bit from sleep. Cheek still a bit red where he had fallen asleep leaning against his hand. You could barely look at him, your heart pounding in your chest.

“I’m sure you have more pressing things to do.” You offered and Tengen just brushed away your attempt with a wave of his hand. He walked towards the door where you stood and reached, brushing past you to pull open the door. He invaded your space, large and not entirely imposing. You felt startlingly comfortable this close to him yet at the same time your heart was in your mouth impeding your speech.

“Give me ten minutes to clean up. Don’t leave without me, little slayer.” He smirked, brushing past you to disappear down the hallway. 

“Wait,” You called after him and he paused. You stood awkwardly halfway in the hallway and halfway in your room, the cold air of the hallway brushing against your flushed skin. He cocked his head at you. You bit your lip, leaning against the door jamb before sighing. 

“I don’t… have a mission. I was just… trying to slip out.” You explained feeling guilty and a bit silly. Tengen didn’t look surprised, rather he just looked amused. He nodded his head.

“Is that so?” He asked, slowly walking towards you in the dim light of the hallway. You watched him approach, heat churning through you. 

“Mister Uzui-”

“Oh, that’s nice.” He smirks at your attempt at professionalism.

“I’m sorry for lying.” You blushed as Tengen actually laughed.

“I forgive you.” Tengen drawled as he approached you. You watched with bated breath as he reached and tucked your hair back out of your face. 

“Mister-”

“You can call me Tengen.” He cut in softly, his hand lingering on your cheek.

“Tengen…” You cooed and that was the moment. Like a twig snapping in the forest. Quick and precise. There is not a single other person in this world he’d rather hear his name spoken by. His eyes dropped to your mouth. Your lips moved but he hadn’t heard a word you said. 

“I’m sorry,” He murmured. “I can’t focus.” 

“Hm?”

“I’m going to kiss you.” He said sort of like a warning. You blushed to your bone and couldn’t find it in yourself to pretend you hadn’t been wanting that. You nodded your head and parted your lips to answer but Tengen ducked his head, lips cutting off your barely formed sentence.

~

Sanemi’s love is consuming, it's possessive. He watched you from afar, eyes drinking in your every little movement. He watched you dive forwards, practice sword in hand as you evaded a clever strike from your opponent. You launched, foot forwards as you sent the boy sprawling backwards on the ground, dust kicking up around him. Sanemi set up, he couldn’t hide the smirk that stretched across his lips as you swung your sword forwards and pointed it at the boy. 

Ruthlessness. That's something Sanemi didn’t see much. Your swordplay was exact and left no room for imagination. He could see you becoming a Hashira in no time. 

The boy raised his hands in mock surrender and you reached a free hand out, pulling him to his feet. Sanemi’s eyes narrowed. The boy said something and the smile and laugh that sprung from you had Sanemi’s stomach in knots. He clapped his hands together in an instant. 

“Training’s done. Leave my sight.” He called out to the group of you. “Except you. You stay.” He pointed to you. The smile died on your face as your sparring partner patted your shoulder as he walked by, good luck he mouthed before jogging to catch up with the other slayers. You swallowed dryly as you heard Sanemi approach you. You steeled your expression and turned. 

“Do you think at the end of a fight with a demon you can extend your hand to them and yank them to their feet?” Sanemi asked as you furrowed your brows. 

“Uh- um… no…” you answered confusedly. Sanemi stared hard at you for a moment. 

“Um no? You sounded unsure.”

“No.” You answered, more sure this time. 

“The point of sparring and winning isn’t to give up when your opponent raises their hands, it’s to have them tap out in submission.” Sanemi chided as you nodded your head. He didn’t like the playing around after the match it seemed. 

“I understand.” 

“So what was so funny?” Sanemi asked as you blinked slowly. 

“Hm?”

“What was so funny? After your spat. What could that idiot possibly say to make you laugh?” You stared at him for a long… long moment. Not only could you not remember what your partner had said but also… Why did Sanemi seem to care so much? You shifted slightly, twirling your practice sword in the dirt. 

“I’ll be better next time.” You said, hoping that would appease this strange attitude Sanemi was sporting. Sanemi looked you over for a minute. 

“Has anyone asked you to be their tsuguko?”

“Yes, Mr. Shinazugawa.” You nodded your head and Sanemi moved a step closer. 

“Ah. Is that so?” He asks, reaching up to run a hand through his unruly white hair. 

“Just a few offers.”

“Who offered?”

“Um… Ms. Kanroji, Mr. Tengen, Mr. Rengoku, and Mr. Tomioka.” You name off, with each name Sanemi’s face gets a bit redder. You clear your throat. “T-that’s all.”

“Be my Tsuguko.” He says, his eyes connect with yours. You swallow. Out of all the Hashira… Sanemi was the only one you were wanting to train under. It was purely out of admiration and definitely not for anything… else. 

“Is— is that a serious offer?” You asked, eyes lighting up. Sanemi nodded his head and you couldn’t help the smile that took over your whole face. “I accept.” You said graciously. Sanemi turned away. 

“Good. We start in the morning.” He said over his shoulder. You nodded before realizing he couldn’t see you. 

“Yes, Mr. Shinazugawa.”

“Sanemi.” He said and your lips parted, brows furrowing softly. 

“Hm?”

“You don’t have to be so formal, we’re the same age.” He says before walking off. You watched him go, smile stuck to your lips. 

Two months passed and Sanemi was a ruthless teacher. He ran you ragged everyday, but you could feel yourself improving. You could feel the power in your swing’s strengthening. You knew you made a good choice training under him. You kept your rampant feelings at bay in favor of professionalism but… it was hard. You felt guilty for having these feelings and so you decided to tell Sanemi you were going to become someone else’s tsuguko. 

On Sanemi’s end there was something stirring. A sort of thorn in his side. He was… incredibly… stupidly… in love with you. He’d thought he’d just been fascinated with you at first and yeah… he is fascinated with you. But it’s much more than fascination at this point. Spending day and night, trading you up he could see why the other slayers would gather around you like a flock. He could see the appeal in telling stupid jokes just to see a smile. Ever since he’d asked you to be his tsuguko and you smiled at him he’d been chasing that high ever fucking since. It was addicting. Your smile, your laugh, your voice and smell and the way you fought it was all being captured and cataloged in his mind. 

Even now as he swung his sword to meet yours his eyes swept over your face, full of concentration, his heart swayed unevenly in his chest. He stepped back. 

“That’s good enough for tonight, good defense.” He commented as you breathed heavily. 

“Thank you.” You said almost breathless, walking over to place your practice sword with the others. 

“Wait,” Sanemi called after you. You passed, turning. 

“Yes?” You asked. Sanemi looked at you, he turned, gathering his thoughts. 

“You’ve… improved incredibly.” He says, scratching the back of his head. He wasn’t looking at you as he said it and for some reason you needed him to. You walked a bit closer, stepping in his eyeline. 

“You’re a good teacher.”

“You’re a quick learner.”

“I.. don’t know about that.” You laughed slightly. He stepped closer, he never licked when you talked down about yourself and he wasn’t going to change that about himself now. 

“You are. I wouldn’t lie to you.”

“I didn’t…” you cleared your throat. “I know that. Would you… give me some more truths?”

“Hm?” Sanemi hummed and met your eyes. 

“Mr. Shina- er… Sanemi…” you steeled yourself. “At the… risk of making things awkward… I can’t really keep things… at bay much longer.”

“What are you saying?”

“I’m… in love with you. It’s… affecting my ability to be… ya know… professional.” You stumbled. Sanemi watched you, you watched his lips barely part in surprise and decided to prattle on. “You are under no obligation to say anything to me. I already spoke with Ms. Kanroji and she said she’ll take me off your hands-“

“Off my hands?” Sanemi echoed, taking a step closer to you. 

“She’ll take me in as he tsuguko so you don’t have to deal with me and my… feelings.” You stumbled, red faced and embarrassed. You couldn't see his eyes anymore. 

“You… you think I’d just kick you to the curb?” Sanemi asks as your eyes snap up to him. 

“Well, I-“

“I don’t want anyone to take you off my hands. I want to keep you.” Sanemi declared. You were speechless. Sanemi reached for your hand. His hand was rough and scared but he held yours with gentleness. He brought it to his lips and pressed a soft kiss to the top of your knuckles. You watched this whole scene unfold… totally enraptured by this side of Sanemi. “Stay. I couldn’t stand to lose you.”

“Sanemi…”

“I love you. Stay.”

~

Giyu’s love is peaceful, it’s quiet, it’s soft blushes and special moments. You hated him. You had to hate him. You had to. Because anything else would be unacceptable. It would be a complete betrayal to yourself. To the you that first met the unpleasant Mr. Tomioka. The you with wide unburdened eyes. The you that ran deliveries for your family, in your small town. Completely unaware of the dangers and… complete unfairness of the world.

Mr. Tomioka came to your town. He was short with you, he didn’t talk much and had these… soulless eyes. The whole town talked about him. Apparently he was something called a Hashira. That’s what your aunt told you, apparently she’d gotten a few more words out of him then most. He was in town to investigate a few of the disappearances. You didn’t see much of the need for him here considering the three ladies that disappeared left notes. A lady at the local cafe you were delivering to had told you the girls had each run off with a guy they each met a town over. You were quick to believe because one of the girls had drunkenly told you two nights before her disappearance that she had met someone. Called him dark and handsome. She prattled on for a bit about him and seemed excited to see him again. 

“You spoke with her?” Mr. Tomioka asked you. He’d asked to have a few words with you about the girls after a day or so of him in town. You were… less inclined to speak with him because he had rubbed you the wrong way when he first arrived. Though this was no time for pride. 

“Yes, she was at the local bar. She was drunk and talked about a man she met.”

“When was this?” He asked, those soulless eyes on you as you fiddled with your hands. 

“Two days before she left.”

“Before she left? You don’t think she disappeared?”

“I don’t… I don’t know. I guess I think she’s just with that guy.” You explained. Mr. Tomioka squinted his eyes at you, his face unchanging. 

“Her parents are very worried about her. They say she’d never up and leave.” He explains as you purse your lips. You were going to argue with that. Her parents knew her better than anyone. “Is there anything else you can tell me?”

“Mhm… well… she said the man she was going to meet lived in a town over.”

“All of the ladies missing have told their friends and families the same thing. They’re meeting a guy a town over. Only they’re not seen again.” Mr. Tomioka explains. You sit up slightly. 

“Really?”

“Don’t gossip about this. This stays between us. I mean it.”

“I wouldn’t.” You declared sharply, slightly offended he would insinuate that you’d run your mouth about this. You were a listener. Not a talker, things said to you always remained a secret. 

“Everyone else in this town foams at the mouth to spread things across town.”

“It’s a small town, Mr. Tomioka. People care for each other.” You grumbled, crossing your arms. “They like to be in the know so they can help when needed.”

“They’re nosy.” He argues. Your eyes sharpen, lips pouting slightly. 

“They’re good people.” You pushed up from your seat. “Now if that’s all, Mr. Tomioka, I have work to get back to.”

“That’s not all.” He responded coldly. You stared at him, you didn’t sit back down. “There’s a link between the girls and I have a feeling you’ll be the next to disappear.”

“What?” You croaked. Mr. Tomioka didn’t convey any special feelings, he just reached for his tea and took a careful sip. He kept you waiting. 

“The three women missing share various traits. Age, eye color, hair color, and body type. I believe a demon has an appetite for a specific type of woman.” Mr. Tomioka explained. You stared at him. You stared some more. You parted your lips to speak and then shut them. Did he just say… demon? 

“I… believe I misunderstood. Do you mean demon as in evil?”

“I mean demon as in demon. I believe the creature is hunting pretty women like you and…” you zoned out. Demon? A creature? You couldn’t focus. You slowly sunk back into your chair. After a moment Mr. Tomioka noticed you not taking in his words. He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “This is all a bit much for you.”

“Yes.” You nodded numbly. 

“Miss, afford me your time. I believe you are in danger. Let me stick near you to keep you safe. I believe the demon will try something soon and I want to be there to intercept it.” He asks, leaning forwards. 

“Whatever.” You waved him off. “I believe you are delusional but… I see no harm in humoring you at least till you figure out what happened to those girls.”

And stuck around Mr. Tomioka did. He walked you to and from work, assisted on your deliveries. As you slept he patrolled your cabin and watched out for your family. He ate with you at dinner and breakfast and lunch for at least a month and a half. Mr. Tomioka didn’t talk much and you tried getting anything out of him but he was all serious like. It was hard to get past that. 

You had started to believe he was a mad man when suddenly you felt a cold hand around your wrist while you were walking to work. When you turned you saw the demon and then a flash of light as Mr. Tomioka’s sword arched and sliced the demon’s wrist into two. You stumbled back as Mr. Tomioka made quick work of the demon. His slice was clean and true and you watched, wide eyed and unblinking as the demon dusted to nothing. You could even muster a word, so utterly terrified and exhausted and completely at a loss. Mr. Tomioka sheathed his sword.

He was right. He was right about the creature about it coming for you. You fell to your knees. Mr. Tomioka was at your side in the blink of an eye. 

“You hurt? I was quick to kill it, I thought.”

“Those girls?”

“Are resting easy now.” He says. Tears fill your eyes. You nod your head and look at the floor. You outlived those girls purely because of Mr. Tomioka. And you had been utterly and completely cold to him the moment he set foot in the town. Mr. Tomioka placed a careful hand on your back. “Can you stand?”

“Yes.” You answered shakily. Mr. Tomioka offered you a hand and you took it. His… his eyes didn’t look so soulless now. He held your cold hand in his warm hand. He didn’t let go. “Mr. Tomioka… Thank you. You… saved my life.” 

“I’m glad you’re safe.” He answers you, his eyes connecting with yours. Your stomach dropped. A moment was shared. One where… you couldn’t believe for a moment you had despised this man.

The next morning you walked Mr. Tomioka to the train station. It was a quiet morning, dew stuck to the grass blades, a gentle fog rolled through the town. The train station was quiet, you two were the only ones there, even the train hadn’t arrived. 

Giyu looked over at you. The way your dress swayed, the way you stayed directly beside him as you walked. Giyu… felt trouble the moment he arrived in this town and it wasn’t the demon lurking in the shadows. It was you. He felt it the moment he walked into your place of work and you smiled so brightly he had to look away. Talked so sweetly that he couldn't form a coherent thought. His words were clumsy and came out sharper than intended because he’d never been this nervous in front of a woman before. He’d saved you and still couldn’t manage to put to words the way you made him feel. He knew you’d come around on him. Knew he’d rubbed you the wrong way at first. But the warmth in your smile as you thanked him last night kept him from sleeping. And now he was leaving, a new mission in sight and three words dying to spring free from his lips. 

“Quiet morning, it seems not many are leaving at this hour.” You observed as you stepped onto the train platform, Mr. Tomioka a step behind you. 

“It’s nice.” He commented and you turned, smiling. 

“It is.” The distant chugging of the train told you both that this little kinship you two had found with each other was coming to an end. “Oh! Mr. Tomioka… I can’t thank you enough for all you’ve done for us and for… saving me but I wanted to give you this as thanks.” Your hands brushed as you handed him over some homemade food for his train ride. He nodded in thanks as the train pulled into the station. He lingered for a moment, he looked down at the food. You watched him, glancing towards the train, passengers filtering off. “Mr. Tomioka? You’ll miss your train.”

“May I visit again?”

“Hm?” You responded almost immediately. 

“May I… come and visit… again?” 

The question lingered in the air for a moment. You blinked, lips parting. 

“Of course. My family loves you. In fact the whole town has warmed to you. I’m sure they’d love to have you back again, no demon lingering this time.”

“And… What about you?”

“Me?” You echoed. He finally met your eyes. Your stomach dropped. 

“Have you… warmed to me?”

“Ah.” You cleared your throat. You wouldn’t lie. Not now… it seemed important in this moment not to mince words. “Very much so, Mr. Tomioka.” There was a small stretch of silence between you two. He clearly had felt the effect of your words. “Mr. Tomioka?” 

“Please… please call me Giyu.” 

“Giyu…” you tried his name out… you liked it. “If it wasn’t incredibly selfish of me to ask, I'd ask you to stay.”

“If it wasn’t incredibly selfish of me I would.” He returns. 

“So we’re… in agreement.” You say and watch the ever stoic Giyu Tomioka smile. It was a small, shy sort of smile but it was a smile nonetheless. You’d catalogue it. The train horn honked, signifying it was about to take off. Giyu stepped close, his hand gently hovering by your cheek. 

“May I? As a goodbye?” He asks. He didn’t even need to. You nodded your head and he leaned into your space and pressed his lips to yours. Softly. His thumb caressed your cheek and he deepened the kiss, his free hand wrapping around your hip. He pulled back, hands still on your hip and cheek. He pressed a quick kiss to your forehead. 

“I’ll come back.” He promised and with that… he was gone.

~

Haganezuka’s love is confusing, confounding, a bit frightening… to everyone else that is. 

Oh boy. You had… broken your first sword. The only piece you were about to recover laid pathetically in your hands. You shook with tears. It was just a sword. Why were you so worked up?

“That’s tough.” Mitsuri’s hand patted your back. “But a right of passage as a demon slayer.” 

“You’ve done this?” 

“Many times. Before I was a Hashira I broke at least ten of my swords.” She explains as you grip the piece in your hand. Turning to look at her. She’s smiling but then she cringes. “You’re going to have to request a new sword.” 

“A new one?” You echo as she nods her head. 

“We can travel to the swordsmith village together.” She smiles. “Do you remember the smith who made your sword?”

“Um. I believe it was Mr. Haganezuka.” You said and that smile dropped again. 

“Mr. Haganezuka?” She echos. You nod your head. “Haganezuka? With the sunflower patterned haori? The wind chimes on his woven hat?”

“Yes, Ms. Kanroji.” You say, interest and eyebrows piqued. She blows out, running a stressed hand through her hair. 

“You’re absolutely sure? You spoke with him before? You know his… nature?”

“His nature? I only saw him in passing. Mr.Urokodaki spoke with him.” You sigh slightly. “Is something the matter?”

“Yes. This… I was hoping it’d be a relaxing trip for you after our mission. But… well…” She pats your head. “Get packed, we’ll leave for the village in the morning.” 

“Um, alright.” You said cautiously. You watch Mitsuri pout slightly as she pushes to her feet and trudges back towards her room. 

The trek to the village took about three days. When you arrived you were surprised to see so many swordsmiths bustling around. Mitsuri had explained to you that Mr. Haganezuka was a character. She said he was intense and to disregard his actions. To say the least she had you nervous as you trekked up the path to his house. Mitsuri had taken off to the hot springs the moment you two stepped into the village and stated for you to meet her. That after talking to Mr. Haganezuka you were going to need some time to relax.

You sucked in a breath, hand reaching up as you rapped your knuckles against his workshop. It was deathly silent since he lived a bit sways from the village. You could hear the distant bustling but not much else. The door creaked open and the first thing you saw was the mask. You sucked in a breath, eyes wide. 

“Yes?” His voice was muffled behind the mask. You stared, lips parted. You had fought demons but this scene had your heart on edge. His workshop was dark, he towered over you, looking down at you through the crack in the door. 

“M-Mr. Haganezuka?” You asked, voice shaky. He nodded. “I’m… a d-demon slayer. You… made me a sword.” You explained. He didn’t answer, just stared down at you. You wished you could see his expression, you read people well and behind a mask he was a mystery to you. “I was Urokodaki’s student.” You tried again. Again he just started. You instinctively stepped back and reached for your bag. You pulled out your broken sword and presented it to him. His head moved as he looked at the broken sword then moved again as he met your eyes. 

“Ah. I remember you.” Was all he said as you swallowed dryly. 

“I— I appreciated the s-word you made me. It… it was a great help. Unfortunately… I— b-broke it. I’m… still t-training and I was careless and uhm— and foolish.” You explained, you were unable to meet his eyes anymore. Your eyes glued to the broken sword in your hands. “I am terribly… terribly sorry for the inconvenience.”

“Not an inconvenience.” He said, and pulled the door open slightly. His workshop wasn’t as dark as you thought as you caught a glimpse of a fire churning in the hearth. You parted your lips, surprised by his words. “You’re alive. The sword fulfilled its purpose.” At that you finally raised your eyes just as he reached out, hand brushing yours as he grabbed the shattered remains. “Come back in three days. I’ll give you a new sword.”

“Really?” You asked softly. Haganezuka nods his head. “Well I appreciate-” The door clicks as he shuts it right in your face. Oh. 

Three days later you visit again. This time with Mitsuri in tow. She would not believe your story of how your first interaction with Mr. Haganezuka went. She claimed he put her in a headlock the first time she broke her sword. She said he chased her till sunrise another time. Mr. Haganezuka seemed… apathetic to you. 

You knocked on the door. No answer. You glanced at Mitsuri and she reached out and knocked. Nothing. 

“Mr. Haganezuka?” You called through the door. You raised your hand again and this time the door cracked open. You jumped, startled as the man pulled open the door. You're not sure how you could tell because of the mask but something was wrong with Mr. Haganezuka. He leaned against the door heavily. 

“Come in. I’ll fetch your sword.” He says as Mitsuri shoots you a confused look. You follow him as he walks laboriously through his workshop. 

“Mr. Haganezuka?” You ask, he tilts his head slightly. “Are you alright?”

“Your sword took me night and day to forge.” He says as he walks you into the main room, Mitsuri close behind  

“Day and night?” You echo. “Did you sleep? Eat?” You ask as Mitsuri warningly grabs your arm. 

“Here it is.” Mr. Haganezuka presents the sword to you. Your eyes widen. It was… different from your last sword. The hilt was a beautiful shade of maroon with intricate carvings. 

“Wow… this is… magnificent.” You were at a loss for words to describe it. Mitsuri sucked in a breath behind you, eyes bulging at the sight. 

“It will suit you well.” He says, leaning on his work table. 

“How much do I owe you, sir?”

“No.”

“N-no?” You echo. He just shakes his head. 

“Make sure to treat it well.” Mitsuri says. 

“I rather hope it treats her well.” He says, sliding into the seat. 

“Mr. Haganezuka, as a thanks please allow me to treat you to something to eat.” You step closer to him. Mitsuri grabs your arm but you don’t let her deter you. 

“Mr. Haganezuka is a busy man-“

“Alright.” He says to your surprise. 

You whipped him up something and Mitsuri took her leave. You laid the food out for him and grabbed your sword. 

“I’ll be taking my leave now.”

“You may stay. If you like.” 

“I figured you wouldn’t want company… that you’d want privacy-“ he reached up and undid the tie to his mask, letting it drop in his hands. You blushed. It was an instant reaction, one you couldn’t hide. He was… handsome. Very handsome. With dark hair and dark eyes. But also he looked exhausted, dark circles beneath his eyes. 

“I don’t mind your company, slayer.” He says and you swallow dryly. 

“I’ll stay then.” You say and sit across from him, he pushes some of the food your way. “You eat. You need it more.” You say but he doesn’t pull the plate back. You sigh, and grab some food.

You spent a month in the village, recuperating from your prior mission, training with Mitsuri and occasionally seeking out Mr. Haganezuka. He was gentle, and kind. Mitsuri was unsettled when she saw how he treated you. Maybe unsettled isn’t the right word… more intrigued. She said she had never seen him act that way with anyone. Not even Rengoku. And everyone liked Rengoku. But you liked Mr. Haganezuka. He was an incredibly hard worker, almost working himself to the bone. He was diligent, he was… handsome. You’d never seen a man like him before.

On your last night you packed up your things. Mitsuri had headed out earlier that morning and you were to meet her later in the week. You tossed your bag over your shoulder and pulled open your door. You traced the same path back to Mr. Haganzuka’s and as you arrived Mr. Haganezuka was already pulling open the door. 

“I cooked.”

“You did?” You ask, a smile forming on your lips. He hadn’t worn his mask since the first time you two met. He nodded his head and you followed him inside, setting your bags by the door. “I just wanted to stop by to say goodbye but I guess I can eat before going.” He stops, turning slightly, eyes intense.

“Hm? You’re leaving?”

“Yes, sir.” You nod your head. “Ms. Kanroji and I have a new mission a few towns over.”

“Ah.” He says, he turns away, still paused. You watch him from behind, blinking.

“Mr. Haganezuka?”

“Food’s getting cold, come on.” He says, walking towards the kitchen. You follow excitedly. The dinner was quiet, a little too quiet for your liking. You cleared your throat, glancing at the time.

“Well. Mr. Haganezuka-”

“Hotaru.” He says, not looking up from his plate. “Please call me Hotaru.”

“Hotaru… I should be taking my leave. Thank you kindly for dinner and… and your company this month. As well as my sword.” You name off, grateful, a soft smile on your face. Hotaru meets your eyes for a second before looking away quickly. 

“You’re… very welcome.” 

He walks you to the door as you bend to grab your bags. 

“Must you leave so late?”

“I have a train to catch.” You say with a smile.

“Do you have… train fare?” He asks as you tilt your head.

“Hm?” You ask as Hotaru grabs some money, handing it to you. “Oh… Oh I can't accept this-”

“And it’s cold out. Don’t you have a scarf?” He asks, bustling out of your view again and reappearing, wrapping a scarf around your neck gently. You blush when his hands inadvertently brush your cheeks and again when he untucks your hair from beneath the scarf.

“Hotaru?”

“Ah! Let me pack you some food for the train and-- and some breakfast-” You catch his arm as he turns. He pauses, eyes darting to your hand. 

“I’ll come and visit.” You say. He meets your eyes slowly.

“Please do.” He says softly. There’s a quiet, almost tension filled moment as his hand slides over yours, his thumb gently stroking the top of your hand before pulling it to his lips and pressing a kiss to your knuckles. “Break your sword as many times as you like.”